


Why Can't It Be Like That

by taggiecb



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Brazil, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Fashion & Couture, Hate Sex, Jealousy, Karaoke, M/M, Minor Violence, Paris (City), Royal Louis, Royal Niall, Sexual Tension, Smut, Stylist Harry, Weddings, tomlinshaw friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 14:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 63,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggiecb/pseuds/taggiecb
Summary: Louis Tomlinson, head of his local hospital's charity fund, suddenly finds himself in the heart of the Royal family when his mother marries the third son of the reigning monarch. Such an upset in lifestyle brings a lot of changes for Louis, one of them being the need for a stylist.Enter Harry Styles, a cutting edge fashion stylist who loves his job and prides himself on his passion. The first time he sees Louis Tomlinson on the cover of a tabloid he wants to dress him, style him, make him as beautiful as Harry knows he could be. When he's hired to do just that, he knows this will be a perfect partnership. That is, until he actually meets the man.A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A massive thank you for reading, for starters. And also thank you so much to Anitra for being there for every part of my life, but the most fun is the fic writing. Thank you to Addy for betaing for me, and not being scared to tell me when I am wrong haha. Thanks to my gc for helping me with the summary. I still love you. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed reading all of the Big Bang fics published so far. XO

Louis can’t say so much that he is in shock. It’s not like he didn’t know how well his mother has been getting on with Dan. It’s not shock. More like, confused surprise. Call him naive, but it occurred to him some time ago that there was a possibility that Jay and Dan would never make their match official. They both made it seem like so much red tape.

The thing is, Dan is a Prince. He is the third son born to the current Monarch HM King Alexander. The title and Style mean little given the abundance of the current monarchy. He is 8th in line for the throne. A very safe distance that allows him to live his life with a freedom that a lot of his relatives do not have. But he’s still a prince. And he’s marrying Louis’ mother. 

 

“What does this mean for us?” Louis asks later that evening, after Dan has gone for the night, and his siblings are asleep. They are sitting in his mother's kitchen. He can't say that he has had a humble upbringing. His mother is independently wealthy. When his stepfather passed nearly six years ago there was a line up of men clamoring for the affections, and no doubt bank balance of his mother. 

But Dan was a surprise. They met at a charity gala. A cause that it turned out was close to both of their hearts. A hospital specializing in children and maternal care. That is how Dan lost his first wife, in childbirth. It happened not even a year before he met Jay, and in a way she got him through that suffering as a friend before things turned to romance. 

“Oh, not a whole lot I'm sure my pet “ She smiles affectionately at Louis, and pats his hand. “Especially not for you. You don't even live at home anymore.” 

“You're moving?” It wasn't an accusation. But he can't keep the hurt from his tone.

“Yes, we will move. But we will keep this house as well. Dan must be based in London for his work. I'm officially retired. I can be anywhere. 

“It won't be the same.” Louis says simply.

“Of course not dear. That's what makes life exciting.”

Turns out that Jay wasn't entirely truthful when she said that things wouldn't change for Louis. A mere few hours after Dan and her marriage was announced, Louis was suddenly bombarded on his social media. It was no secret that he was the son of Jay Tomlinson, and he had a fairly substantial social media following on his own thanks to his line of work. He chairs an incredibly successful, and prestigious charity fund for St. Helen's children’s hospital. It is a job that is both dear to his heart, and one that he is incredibly good at.  
As the weeks pass, the interest in Louis grows. He’s being tagged as most eligible bachelor, and best looking man in the royal family, which is ridiculous since he’s not actually in the royal family. But he finds himself on the cover of several rag mags, and celebrity sites every few days, and it’s starting to get to him. The last straw comes about two months after the “announcement” as Louis is beginning to refer to it.

“Mum, I know you have bigger things on your plate, but this is my life too, and I don’t think I can deal with it much more.” Louis tries so hard to not whine, but by the look on his mother’s face as they sit in her sitting room, flipping through various magazines looking for the perfect shade of flower tells him that it come across as just that. 

“Love, it’s just a few pictures in a magazine. So a few ladies think you’re attractive. Honestly how bad could it be.” He looks at her with narrowed eyes, and flips a small stack of papers on the coffee table in front of her. She glances down at the writing on the top page, and concern quickly fills her face. “What is this?”

“Patrons.” Louis sighs out. “every paper is a patron who is not comfortable with me being such a public ‘boy toy’. I haven't even done anything.” 

“Well, Louis your charity has hundreds of patrons. So you lost a few.” She tries to sound flippant, but she knows how Louis feels about his work. 

“Losing even one is one too many. I need to do something.”

“How about we talk to Dan. His family knows how to deal with things of this scale. I'm sure he can point you in the right direction”. Louis just nods, and turns himself back towards the magazine lying open in front of him. 

“I quite like this one.” He points to a flower in front of him. 

“Louis! Honestly, that's a daisy. How did I get stuck with you for this job?” They both laugh and Louis begins to forget his worries for a little while at least. 

It's not even a week later when Louis finds himself in a very posh little tea shop. It's not one he's been to before, but he quite likes the atmosphere, and suspects that he will frequent it more often. 

It's not long before his companion is sitting across from him, a delicate tea cup, and scone closely following behind.

“Good afternoon Dan.” Louis smiles up. He does like Dan. He's happy that his mum found someone so kind, and sweet. And not worried about her fortune. He pretends to forget that Dan is a mere nine years older than him. It doesn't seem to have an effect on his relationship with his mother, which makes it none of Louis’ business.

“And a good afternoon to you as well Louis.” Dan replies in his practiced politeness. “Johanna tells me that you have been having issues. I was hoping that I could give some guidance.” 

“I really do not want to sound ungrateful. I'm truly not. I want to welcome you into the family. We are lucky to have you Dan.” Dan smiles, and ducks his head slightly. “But it's only been weeks since the announcement. You must have seen the media coverage.”

“Indeed I have. I'm assuming that we are discussing your media coverage though. They have painted quite a picture of you.” Dan says. 

“They have. And I would otherwise ignore such stories, but I'm sure Mum has mentioned how they are affecting my work. The hospital had begun noticing as well. It's really not fair to any of them.”

“No it isn't.” Dan mulls over his thoughts while Louis takes a cautious sip of tea. It's still quite hot, but enough for Louis to take a large mouthful. “I could give suggestions. There are security detail, there are media managers. But those things would come out of your pocket, and get quite pricey.” Louis nods along. If Dan says pricey, it's going to be clearly out of Louis’ budget. And he will not ask his mother for an allowance to save his reputation. “I do have something else to offer though.” Dan hesitates for just a moment. “I know how you feel about the hospital you work for. I understand how you feel about your work. I am not trying to take that away from you.” He takes a deep breath. “But I do have a position that you would be perfect for.”

“A job?” Louis certainly did not see this coming.

“A career. Doing much the same thing that you are doing now. Just...a little grander scale.” 

“How grand?” Louis asks.

“It would be chairing a charity in which the king is patron. You will not be running the charity itself. You will just be a representative if you will. You will be in charge of the King’s patronage.” 

Louis is confused to say the least. He has had his fair share of patrons who were high scale. He has never had a representative. But this is the King. “What is the charity?” He asks in lieu of anything else to say. Dan smiles, as though proud of what he is about to say.

“The National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. It's a very important charity to the King, and the Queen before him. You would also be under the the royal family’s employment of which would ensure security, and help as needed.”

“Help?”

“This position would require you to be present at a great many social obligations. Balls, dinners, parties. You will find that a stylist and an assistant would be preferable, at the very least.” Louis doesn't reply to this. He's weighing his options as quickly as possible. He wants nothing more than to keep the hospital successful. Maybe removing himself would be the best option. And the charity that he wOULD be moving to is very noble. He looks up to see Dan smiling and... curses his open book face. 

“I must bring along my own assistant. He has been with me for quite some time.” His tone is firm, mind made up on that at least. 

“I think you will find that you will need someone that is experienced on lifestyles of this scale.” Dan replies.

“You've never met Liam Payne.”

*  
Louis is now convinced he’s living in a nightmare. He finds himself sat once again in his mother’s sunny, and bright sitting room with five Tomlinson ladies staring back at him. 

“Can you not just give the titles to the youngest two?” He pleads with the only other man in the room, Dan. 

“I’m sorry Louis. It’s all of you, or none of you. And I am siding with the girls here. If we have any children, I am sure that they will be given at least small titles. I would prefer to not create animosity in the family.” Dan pleads with him with his eyes. 

One of Dan’s main concerns is creating a rift between his newly acquired family, and his possible future blood children. Louis has assured him on more than one occasion that it would not be the case. Dan is too loving, and caring to let it. But he is the one who brought this bloody idea of giving all of the children titles, and so Dan is not much his favourite person at the moment. 

“So, what will the titles be?” Louis replies, feeling defeated. The littles girls squeal, and he can hear the sigh of relief coming from Dan from all the way across the room. 

 

Lord Louis Tomlinson. He looks at the official placard on the desk of his office in his brand new, and very posh flat. He’s not saying that it’s been a difficult move, but he’s definitely feeling the affects of the past few months. Liam on the other hand has settled into his new role like a fish to water. Liam lives for the pressure that this job has created for him. And despite the doubts of quite a few of his new employers, and employees, Liam has done nothing but shine. 

And Louis will admit that he does quite enjoy his new job as well. He truly does believe in the work he is doing, and he has met some of the most interesting people along the way. He finds it quite interesting being on the patron end of a large charity as opposed to be on the charity end. It’s good to wake up and feel like you are doing something worthy. 

On the down side, he is not exactly prepared for the part where he is not only representing the King in name, he is also physically representing him. That means a lot of things, but they one that Louis is struggling with the most is his appearance. He’s no slouch dresser, and he’s been to his fair share of events, but Dan has stressed to him on more than one occasion that he is now at a new level, and having someone at the pulse of the fashion industry would be most favourable. Louis finally relents after he made the cover of the Sun as worst dressed noble. He didn’t find anything wrong with ignoring such trash publication, but many others didn’t take it as kindly. 

“Fine, I’ll try it. I am not making any commitments though.” Louis relents to Dan. Dan on the other hand looks determined. 

“Louis, I found you the absolute best stylist on this side of the world. I am very grateful that he even took my call. You must give him your respect, and be compliant.” Louis sticks his nose in the air. Compliant is not a thing that Louis has ever been particularly good at. But another look at Dan tells him that there is no room for argument in this one. 

Dan did warn him from the beginning, he should have known it would eventually come to this. But the idea of someone else picking out his clothes. The idea that someone else would be able to do a better job at choosing his style seems like a ridiculous concept. 

“Fine, I’ll give my undivided attention.” Louis says, and returns to the paperwork in front of him, intentionally avoiding Dan’s pleased expression.


	2. Chapter 2

“You have got to be kidding me.” Zayn says from the couch of their studio.  The way the sunlight is filtering in, and Zayn is stretched on the couch, he looks more cat than man. 

Harry barely gives him a glance over his shoulder. “What?” he replies simply, knowing damned well what Zayn is going to say next.

“You’re selling out. You’re a sell out.” Harry scoffs, and continues to pack his portable wardrobe.

“I am not selling out Zayn. I am going to be dressing a representative of the King.  the most prestigious people in the country will see my work.

“We didn’t need rich wankers, at overpriced dinners to get where we are today. We wanted to dress people who cared about the fashion, not about who they were impressing that night.” Zayn’s rant isn’t entirely truthful, and they both know it, but the principle remains. Harry has had some high profile clients in the field of fashion, he is comfortable, both financially, and personally.  He had no intention to sway from that.  But then Louis Tomlinson started showing up in every printed publication in the city of London, and subsequently in every one of Harry’s fantasies since.  Harry doesn’t tell Zayn this, but he would give up a lot more than his reputation to be able to dress the man in these magazines.  

“Just think of it as doing a duty to my country.” Harry says with a flare of his hands. “I will just close my eyes and think of England.” This garners an actual giggle from Zayn, and Harry continues to pack. “Coming with?” He asks as he zips up the last wall of his trolley.  

“No” Zayn replies, not at all pouting.

“Suit yourself.”

 

*

 

Harry ignores the butterflies in his stomach as he has the doorman hold the service elevator for him.  He has been anticipating this meeting to such an extent that he is finding it difficult to keep his professional air. He smiles, and thanks the man who has escorted him to the penthouse door, and is left alone to knock cheerfully at the door.

He is almost immediately rewarded with the door opening.  He paints on a broad smile, and works really hard to keep it when it is not in fact Louis Tomlinson opening the door.

“Hello!” The happy man in front of him greets Harry with a wave into the room. Harry follows silently. He had confirmed with the door person that this was the home of Lord Louis Tomlinson.  There is not more than one.  His confusion must be showing, or his lack of communication because the man leading him further into the spacious flat speaks again.  “I am so sorry.  I didn’t introduce myself.  I am Liam, Louis’ personal assistant, and best friend!” The man, Liam, almost shouts with the joy of it.  

As he is being  led into what must be a master suite Harry imagines what it must be like to be best friends with a character such as Louis.  Not that he knows what Louis is actually like as a person, he just makes up little scenarios in his head to match the clothes that he sees him wearing in the magazines.  In his head, Louis is a rebel, a bit of a brat. A bit of a lad, as they call them. Maybe that isn’t who Louis is at all. Harry likes to imagine that he can dress Louis to be someone that, when people look at him, they see a man of respect, and honourable human, a beautiful person. He’s still slightly in his own head when they approach the inside of their destination  The room is huge, and there is a king bed place directly in the center.  Large pillars rising from each corner.  He hears a noise coming from the far corner, and sees an open door to what must be either a toilet, or a closet.  He takes a chance, and wheels his things towards it.  

 

His gamble pays off because he finds himself in another well lit, and roomy area, with one very well built, and very scantily dressed man. 

 

“Fuck!” the man shouts, placing a hand delicately over his chest. Harry’s eyes travel towards it, and then just involuntarily keep going until they see that he isn’t wearing anything but a towel.  Harry swallows hard, and forces the eyes back up. 

 

“Can you please tell me what you are doing in my dressing room?” He sounds less scared now, and more annoyed.  Harry figures that if there is a time to speak quickly, it would be now.  He clears his throat, and adopts his professional smile once again.

“I am Harry Styles. Pleased to meet you My Lord.” Harry bows his head, and looks back up to see a look of distaste on his face.

“Please don’t with the ‘My Lord’ business. I am not actually a Lord, and we both know it.” Louis looks sternly towards Harry for confirmation that Harry will be in agreeance, and Harry can feel a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. He nods once, and when Louis sees him do that he smiles.

The smile changes his entire face.  

It’s almost like there was two men standing in front of him, and  Harry has already forgotten why there was a problem to begin with.  “Please, call me Louis. You’ve already seen me at my worst.” Louis sweeps his hand down showing nothing but toned muscle, and tanned skin.

“On the contrary M’Lord….Louis.” Harry mostly mumbles, but he knows that Louis understood what he said.  A look that Harry can’t quite decipher comes onto his face. “You have the most expressive features.” Harry blurts out before his brain knows what it’s doing. This makes Louis laugh, and roll his eyes.

“Don’t I know it. It’s my greatest fault, I believe. I cannot keep anything to myself. Even when I try. I apologise in advance for that.”

“It’s quite alright. I find it...interesting.” Harry watches him for just a moment more before his face changes again. This time it seems like a little frustration is seeping through.

“You, on the other hand have no expression whatsoever. I am jealous.” Harry looks at the floor to hide his embarrassment.

:”Maybe if we had equal amounts of both, you could play poker a little better, and I could let people know how I feel a little more.” It was meant as a joke, but come out sounding woeful, and that is not the kind of first meeting that Harry wanted to have.  

He suddenly claps his hands, and smiles again. “Well, enough for introductions, how about I do the job for which I was hired?” Louis smiles again, and Harry feels like he has won some sort of prize because of it.

“Yes please.” He replies and walks towards Harry’s tiny shop.

  
  


**

Less than an hour later, and Harry is already fantasising about the moment they first met.  Because it’s a hell of a lot more pleasant than what he is being subjected to at the moment.

“No” Louis says once again. Just like he’s been saying since he had a look at Harry’s selections.

“Please M’Lord. This YSL. It’s the latest trend. I assure you-” Harry gets cut off by a very significant huff.  “Louis. I assure you that this ensemble will compliment every part of your body.”

“I don’t care. It looks like something my mother would put on her bed. It’s a quilt Harry.  I’m not letting that even sit in my closet.” Louis says it with an air of finality.

The thing that Louis cannot seem to get through his brain is that Harry had spent the better part of a week hand selecting every thread for the body that stands in front of him. Harry had become absolutely obsessed with Louis’ figure. His height, the thickness of his thighs, the way his back curves into a beautiful round bottom.  He’s all man, but at the same time he has the most enticing hourglass figure. Not to mention the tone of his skin, and the colour of his hair and eyes. Harry immediately started dressing him as soon as the first picture became public. It unfortunately didn’t occur to him that he would have to take the man’s opinion into consideration. It’s another perk of being as successful as he is. People come to him. People trust him. It’s been a long time since he has had to earn the trust of a client. He’s very rusty.

“Ok” Harry says, feeling resigned for the moment. “Can you please just choose one thing from this selection that you feel would be an example of what you would be more comfortable wearing.” He knows that he sounds condescending, and Louis looks like he trusts him even less now, but he still takes a step towards the rack, eyeing the fabrics with skepticism.

He finally stops, and grasps an item, fingering it to feel the texture.  He pulls it off the hanger, and after a moment of inspection, he passes it to Harry. “This is quite nice.”

Harry breaths a small sigh of relief, but at the same time groans a little too. It’s a black YSL jacket. With diagonal stripes angling towards the bottom of the zipper. The sleeves are leather, and of course also black. It’s the most plain article of clothing he brought. He intended to pair it with a soft pink shirt with white polka dots. He’s not sure that’s an option anymore.  

“This is very--” He doesn’t want to say plain, because that would be calling Louis plain, and Louis is nothing but.  “Black” he goes with.

“I like black. And I also like a little colour, but not these wild patterns.  This just isn’t me.  I’m sorry.” Louis finally apologises for the first time, and Harry is at least appeased that Louis realises what an effort that Harry has put in, and that he’s currently destroying.

“So, may I suggest something a little...edgier?” Harry asks, trying to find some sort of clue, or compromise.

“Edgier, yes.” Think, maybe, high fashion band t shirts. That’s kind of me.” Harry just stares.  He’s not going to cry.  He never cried in front of a client, he isn’t going to start now.

“I’ll see what I can do.” And with that he immediately walks out, leaving everything behind.

 

**

 

Harry doesn’t find any more comfort at home. Especially after Zayn shows up. He really needs to find more sympathetic friends. He’s lying face down on his sofa with Zayn perched on his thighs watching television, and eating a plate of sushi that he brought for both of them.  

“High fashion band t shirts.” He moans in distress.  Zayn merely wiggles a little, digging his bony behind into the back to Harry’s kneecaps.  “Does such a thing even exist?”

“You know damned well that they do. You have a few in your closet. Not that you would ever wear them.” Zayn comments with a tone of his voice that suggests what a waste it is for them just to be sitting there. Zayn has adopted the philosophy that if Harry doesn’t wear an article of clothes, they are free for Zayn to take. Harry doesn’t not subscribe to that idea at all, and it’s a constant cause for friction between them.

“Ugh, Zayn get off of me.” Harry rolls over, and sits, grabbing a piece of tuna from Zayn’s plate.  “It’s not just the t shirt. He said no to almost every piece of clothing that I brought. I hand picked every single piece of those clothes. They would have all looked so beautiful on him.”

“He didn’t like them Harry. What’s the big deal? I have never seen you deny a person their own style.  If something doesn’t work for them, you find something that does. That’s what you do.  That’s what you were sent to Louis to do. I don’t understand why you aren’t doing that for him.” Zayn never strays his eyes from the tv, but it’s obvious that Zayn has been keeping the question to himself since he got to Harry’s.  

“I know what he would look good in. His opinion shouldn’t matter.” Harry replies stubbornly.

“That sounds ridiculous, and a little bit creepy. Maybe you should try again. Get to know him a little first.”

“I don’t want to date him Zayn, I want to dress him.”

“God Harry, I didn’t say anything about dating him, although the way you are going on about it makes me wonder what your problem is.” Harry can tell that Zayn’s approaching his limit of meaningful conversation, but he feels that he needs to explain himself.  However awkward it may sound.”

“I just see him, and my mind just starts racing with fabrics, and patterns, and textures. I want to show off his assets, and accentuate his contours. Since I even knew what fashion was I have envisioned this perfect body.  Whenever I sketched a design in school, whenever I see an article of clothes, I have this ideal human form in my head.  Louis is that form. He’s not just in my head anymore. He is standing in front of me, asking me to do my job, what I have wanted to do since I laid eyes on him, and now he is just taking it away from me. It’s not fair, and I cannot expect you to understand.” Zayn is staring at him, perplexed, and a little worried. Harry doesn’t blame him. He is worried about his new obsession too. Finally Zayn just rolls his eyes, and stands up.

“Call him, and ask him out for coffee.” He says before he walks into the kitchen, effectively ending the conversation.

 

**

 

Making the call is harder than Harry thought it would be. Partly because he knows how he acted on their last meeting, and partly because he has absolutely no interest in what Louis thinks, feels, or wants from him.  He just wants to dress him how he should be dressed. There is a right and a wrong here, and Harry is most definitely right. He has an abundance of clients, awards, and money to prove that. What does Louis have? A front cover of worst dressed noble. But Zayn has had enough of his whining, and Louis has an event coming up in a few weeks that he needs to be prepared for.  So he dials Louis’ business number.

“Louis Tomlinson’s office.” A cheerful voice greets him.

“Hello, this is Harry Styles looking for Louis Tomlinson.” Harry replies in his own professional manner.

“I’m afraid Louis isn’t in the office today, may I leave a message Mr. Styles?” the man replies.  Harry thinks his name was Liam?

“I was actually hoping to set up a meeting to discuss Louis’ ensemble for his forthcoming dinner at the palace.” He tries to not let his voice show his anticipation for that event. Provided Louis would actually let him anywhere near him with a piece of cloth.

“Ah yes! That could definitely be arranged. I have his schedule in front of me. Is there a better time for you? He’s pretty open for the next few days.” Harry can hear pages ruffling, and thinks how quaint it is that Liam uses an actual organizer, and not just google calendar, or something of the like. Harry definitely approves of Liam.

“Oh, I was going to suggest tomorrow. For coffee.” Harry replies, still unsure if this meeting is a good idea.

“Tomorrow is fine, how is 10 am for you? And Louis does not drink coffee I am afraid. Finds the stuff dreadful. He does like tea though…” Harry listens to Liam ramble a bit  before he is tuned back in when he asks Harry where he would like Louis to meet him.

“Oh, um Benugo? Does that sound ok?” Harry asks, suddenly unsure of himself.  This man sure does ask a lot of questions.  

“Sounds fine. Louis will be there!” Liam confirms, still cheerful.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you Mr. Styles.” And the line goes dead.  

“Here’s to trying again.” Harry says to no one in particular.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Louis finds himself sitting in the same little cafe where he met with Dan all those weeks ago.  He’s quite pleased with that at least. As far as his meeting, he’s a little more weary. Harry Styles is a character to be sure. Louis is not exactly sure what to expect. Their last meeting ended so abruptly that Louis was sure that Harry would drop him as a client. He’s hoping to find some answers to that. At least he can find out maybe if he offended the man in any way.  He hasn’t even had the nerve to contact him to return his wardrobe. It’s still sitting in his closet, shoved up against the wall, untouched. 

Suddenly he’s faced with Harry in living colour.  He’s tentatively hovering near the door, his hair hanging loose, and the white sleeves of his shirt shoved up to his elbow.  _ Why can’t he choose clothes for me like that _ , Louis thinks.  Even his black jeans somehow makes him look like he has stepped out of some fashion magazine. Louis lifts a hand to signal Harry over. He hesitates for just a moment before striding purposefully towards the table, and sitting across from Louis.

“Hello again” Louis greets with a smile, trying to at least make for a comfortable tea break.

“My Lord” Harry nods his head. Louis can’t help his nostrils flaring, but for the sake for being civil, he doesn’t correct him this time. “I was hoping that we could try again. I apologise for the way I acted upon our last meeting, and I would like to rectify that.”

“No need to rectify anything, I am just worried that I did something to offend you.” Louis sighs a little in relief before Harry’s head shoots up to make eye contact. The look of confusion clear on his face.

“Well, I was offended.  Quite so. And a little heartbroken if honesty is on the menu.” Louis could see the hurt clear in his eyes.  

“Well, please tell me how I did that. I assure that it wasn’t my intention.”

Harry’s eyes are back on the table, untouched coffee sitting in front of him. “I worked really hard finding those clothes for you. You didn’t even try.” his voice is small, almost child like, and Louis feels guilt seep into every pore of his body. “I worked really hard.” Harry repeats.

“I’m sorry Harry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was just… I didn’t like the clothes. It wasn’t you. It was the clothes. I thought maybe if we could work together-”

“But I know. I know what would look best on you. You have to trust me. Please.” Harry pleads. Louis almost wants to just give him what he wants, and let the smile that he saw the first time they met come back into the picture, but then he remembers those hideous choices that Harry had given him, and shudders at the thought at having to wear any of them in public.

“Listen, Dan likes you, and Liam likes you.  And they will not even give me another recommendation for a stylist until I at least try to work it out with you.  But we have to compromise.” Harry deflates a little, and it only agitates Louis.

“I don’t understand the problem with taking my opinion into account. I am a grown man, I have been choosing my own clothes for well over 20 years. We can work together, or we will have many more of these arguments. Now can we cooperate or not?”

“Your mother’s wedding.  I want full reign over your ensemble.” Harry crosses his arms. Louis does the same.

“No”

“Ugh, no no no. Is that the only word you know? How is that cooperating?” Harry rolls his eyes in disgust. And Louis rolls his as well.

“I want final say on all purchase choices. I want a say on what I wear on my body.” Harry huffs through his nose, but doesn’t immediately disagree.

“Fine, but you at least have to try on the things I bring to you. You have to at least try to see things my way.” Harry replies, eyes unblinking. Louis contemplates for a moment as well, wondering how this escalated so quickly.

“Fine, but you have to try to find clothes that I might like. If you aren’t going to do that, then our relationship will be over long before my mother’s wedding approaches. Okay?” Louis stares back, thinking that he can play this game as well. Harry looks like he’s ready to protest, but he doesn’t. He just nods, and stands to leave without so much as a goodbye. Louis doesn’t feel like he has any more answers than he did when he first sat down.


	4. Chapter 4

It doesn’t get much better. Their next meeting finds them in Harry’s studio this time.  Harry has no expectations that Louis will be agreeable to any of his new choices, so no sense in hauling them all the way to his flat. Being right unfortunately does not ease the sting.

“I am really truly baffled Mr. Styles as to how you call this compromise.” Louis is currently standing, as promised in an outfit of Harry’s choosing. He certainly didn’t promise that he would keep it, but he did fulfill his commitment to at least try. He’s currently sporting a pair of pastel green trousers that are so tight that he considered lying down to zip them, and a blue and white striped t shirt. “What about this outfit screams out “edgy” to you?”

Harry is so grateful in this moment that he is able to keep his face neutral. He’s beaming on the inside though, and doesn’t think that Louis could look any better. “Well, the look may not be edgy per se, but the concept is very much so.”

“Is that so? Please enlighten me.” Louis looks down at himself with skepticism. Harry smiles proudly.

“There are few men in the world who could pull off a woman’s skinny jean as well as you. You have a beautiful figure.” Louis looks up slowly, eyes like daggers. Harry is expecting to see steam coming from his ears at any moment.

“I ask you for edgy, so you make me look like a 14 year old girl?” Louis asks. His tone is calm, but his voice could cut metal. “I am going to go into the dressing room, and when I come out, you can find something more suitable for what I asked of you, or we are finished here. Permanently.” He gets off the little stage that Harry had ushered him to, and doesn’t look back.  Harry can tell how angry he is by the rigidity of his back. He sighs, reveling in his small triumph for a moment before he goes back into his options, pulling out the dull colours, and shapes that he knows Louis will enjoy.

The next outfit pleases Louis a great deal. It’s a simple black t shirt with a small logo on the chest. The bottoms are jeans, also black. That’s it. Louis rubs his hands together as he stares in the mirror.

“We shall keep this.” He calls over his shoulder, pleased with himself. Harry rolls his eyes not so subtly, and Louis catches it in the reflection. “Problem?” He raises a brow in what seems to be a challenge.

“Yes actually. These clothes do not look good on you. They do not make you look good. They are just limp pieces of fabric hanging from your body. It’s an injustice.”

“More an injustice than that pastel nightmare you just threw on me? I find that hard to believe.”

“Absolutely.  Maybe I went a little overboard on the colour, but at least you could see your finest assets.” Harry waves a hand towards Louis’ middle.

“Is that a jab at my ass? Staring are we?” Louis sasses.

“Of course I am staring! It is my job. I am choosing clothes that make you look your best. You are ignoring it because it was sold in the lady’s department.”

“My objection was not the fact that you compared me to a women. It was that you completely ignored my initial request.  Are there not lady’s skinny jeans that come in a colour besides the stuff they put in the bottom of easter baskets?” Harry is speechless at this.  Because it’s the first time that he realised that he might be trying a little too hard to be defiant towards Louis.  Even though he is actively crushing Harry’s dreams.

“Can we make a deal?” He says in lieu of a response. Louis just tilts his head. “Let me dress you for the dinner. No complaints. I will put you in clothes that will look really good on you. If you get even one compliment, you will start to take my input into consideration.

“You haven’t given me reason to trust you yet.” Louis replies, with an edge to his voice.

“Dressing you for your mother’s wedding to the Prince would be the greatest honour of my career. I do not want to lose that. If you let me dress you, and you get at least one compliment, I stay.  If you do not get any, I will resign.”

It’s a bit of a fib.  While dressing Louis for the Prince's wedding would certainly be a career highlight, it’s Louis himself that Harry is not ready to give up on. But he’s not about about to tell him this. Especially the way Zayn, his colleague, and friend reacted to the idea.

“Alright Styles. This is your one chance.” Harry nods his head, pleased.

Zayn wanders into the studio not even an hour later. He’s carrying a bundle of rolled up paper that is likely sketches. His eyes immediately narrow in on something in the far corner, and he goes to pick it up.

“What is this?” He displays the article in front of him as though it might bite him, or give him a communicable disease. Harry rolls his eyes at the dramatics.

“Trousers, obviously.” Harry responds.  Zayn takes another look, looking thoughtful.

“I thought you had Tomlinson in for a fitting?” He carefully shakes out the offending article of clothes, and folds them neatly, because no matter if he likes it or not, he’s respectful of a piece of fashion. Harry keeps himself busy packing all of the other things that Louis rejected.

“I did.” He says off handed.

“Harry!” Zayn immediately booms, as much as Zayn can boom anyway. “You made Louis Tomlinson try on those trousers?”

“Yes” Harry defends himself. Zayn just shakes his head, and continues to wait for an explanation.  “Well in my defense, they looked really good on him.  The green compliments his skin tone beautifully.”

“Harry, Louis isn’t your little barbie doll that you get to play with.  He’s a person, and more important, he’s a client. You’ve got to be more considerate. And more respectful.  Do you know what would happen if it got out that we got fired by the Prince’s step son? I was going to stay out of it, because I really didn’t think that it would be possible for you to get yourself fired, but now I’m genuinely concerned.”

“Come on Z, it’s not that serious.” Harry tries to brush it off. “It was just an experiment.  He didn’t like it, we moved on.” He raises a shoulder trying to display his nonchalance.

“How close are you to losing him?” Zayn suddenly asks with concern in his voice. Harry doesn’t answer.  “I am getting worried about you H.  What is it about this guy?  Why is he so special?” It hits a bit of a nerve, because Harry has been spending weeks obsessed with this guy, and now obsessed with pushing his buttons.  He doesn’t have an answer.

“I don’t know. I see him, and he’s like a toy that I don’t get to play with. It’s not fair.”

“You’re being incredibly weird and creepy, you do know that right? I’ve never seen you act like this.”

“I’m aware.” Harry answers simply.

“But you don’t want to just walk away from him.  As a client I mean.” Zayn questions in a tone that’s fit for a tantruming child.

“No. I want to be able to do this, and do it well. I can control myself.” Harry says it almost like a mantra. Zayn just sighs, and shakes his head once again.

“Does Tomlinson know about this little kink you have going on with his body?”

“God no, and it’s not a kink. It’s a passion. My work is my passion, and he’s part of my work. That’s all it is.  Remember when you discovered moleskine, and refused to touch ink to any other kind of paper? It’s like that.”

“Yes, but my moleskine didn’t have an opinion on the kind of sketches that I drew on it.  Louis is a person.  You have to be respectful to that.” Zayn repeats once again. Once again sounding like he’s trying to talk a crazy person off a ledge.

“Yes Zayn, I’m quite aware. Thank you for the pep talk.” Harry returns to his task, hoping that Zayn is finished with him.  He does walk over to his desk to arrange his sketches, but comes right back to where Harry is working.

“Maybe I could come with you for your next meeting.  Might help both of you.” He suggests.  Harry’s first urge is to say no, but he cannot think of one reason as to why.

“Fine, whatever you want.” Harry says over his shoulder, hopefully dismissing the entire conversation.

 

**

 

“I’m still not entirely sure why you feel the need to bring me along to a clothes fitting.” Liam questions as they are stepping through Harry’s studio door.

“Because you don’t seem to believe me when I tell you what he’s been doing. I swear that the man has it out for me.” Louis protests. Liam gives him a skeptical look, but follows along loyally like he usually does.

They make their way into the well lit area, and immediately are greeted by Harry and a man that Louis doesn’t recognise. Both Harry and the man immediately come forward in greeting.

“Hello Louis.” Harry shakes his hand, more professional than Louis has ever seen him. “This is Zayn Malik, my partner.” Zayn extends a hand towards Louis as well.

“Business partner, hello. Nice to finally meet you.” Zayn quirks his lips into an expression that Louis doesn’t quite comprehend, but he seems friendly, and Louis smiles back.

“And This is Liam Payne.  Harry you, and Liam have met.”

“Briefly” Harry responds as Liam, and Zayn exchange pleasantries.

Once everyone’s hands are shaken, and everyone has introduced themselves Harry guides Louis towards the racks of clothes. Harry leans in close to Louis, with barely an inch between them.

“Felt the need for back up did you?” He asks, not in a mean tone, just more accusatory than anything.

“Was your boss worried about what a horrible job you are doing?” Louis easily retorts.  He hears a gasp behind him, and suddenly there is no more whispering.

“Zayn Malik is not my boss. We are equal partners. This is also his work space. He is here today to merely assist me in what has proven to be a trying task.”

“The only person in this room making this a difficult task is you!” Louis counters, voice also raised to a point that he catches the attention of the other two men in the room.

“If you would just listen to me. And stop being so God awful fussy, we would get along just fine!” Harry is full blown yelling now. It takes Louis back for a moment, but not long enough to stop this ridiculous nonsense.

“If I would listen to you? IF I WOULD LISTEN TO YOU?!?! Liam, we are leaving!” Louis makes his way straight for the door when a hand is on his arm. He is ready to do what he has to do in order to rid himself of the obstacle when he realises it’s Liam.

“Woah woah woah.  We have been here for less than fifteen minutes.  We are not going anywhere.” Liam says in a tone that is more authoritative than Louis is accustomed to. “At least look at what he has brought for you.” Louis considers for a moment refusing, and just leaving and never looking back, but he glances over Liam’s shoulder to see Zayn giving a similar pep talk to Harry, and he will be damned if he lets this man get the best of him.

“Ok, I will try on his clothes, and then you will see why this has been such a trial, and we can all go home. Yes?” He gives a challenging look towards Harry who looks to be stewing, arms folded over his chest, rumpling his ridiculous floral patterned shirt.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

Louis finds himself back on the stage, facing a mirror, and mouth screwed into a scowl. “I told you.” He calls to Liam, who is hunched over a desk with Zayn, paying no attention whatsoever. “Liam!” he calls out again, ignoring Harry’s eye roll.

“Yes, yes I’m here.” Liam pops his head up as though he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “You look lovely!”

“What? No I do not. Look at this!” Louis shoots out an arm for Liam to inspect.  He’s wearing a blue suit.  The jacket is covered in an off white floral pattern. Underneath is a crisp white shirt, paired with an incredibly slim cut pair of trousers in a colour matching the jacket. His shoes are black, and so shiny that Louis can see his reflection in them. He feels like a circus clown. “This is the most ridiculous outfit I have ever seen.” Louis glares at Harry in the mirror who is giving Zayn a _do you see what I am putting up with?_ Look. Zayn must take this as his cue for intervention, and joins Louis on the stage.

“On the contrary sir. The blue of this suit absolutely makes your eyes sparkle. The shade is perfect on you. The white of the shirt brings out the caramel of your natural skin tone. There is nothing worse than a loose cut on a suit, which is why Harry has chosen something that pinches so well at the waist. You have a beautiful curve here.” Zayn puts his hands on Louis’ hips, and slide them down showing the gentle angle towards his thighs. “And the cut of the trousers makes your legs look longer, and therefore gives you the illusion of looking taller.  All in all I think you look stunning.”

Louis isn’t one to be flattered by compliments, but Zayn’s explanation does a lot to ease his concerns. If Zayn can see in a professional way how this suit works for Louis, maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world to wear it, just for one night.

“You really think it suits me?” He smiles at Zayn, Zayn smiles back.

“Oh, for fuck sakes!” a voice booms behind them, startling them both. “You trust him because he tells you that your ass looks cute.” Harry is glaring at them both through the mirror. Louis knows it’s wrong, but he turns to look Harry in the eye, and smiles.

“Zayn is nice. I like him.” He looks back towards Zayn again, pretending that Harry isn’t there. “I will take the suit. Thank you for your help.” He doesn’t get as much satisfaction as he thought he would when the door slams, and Harry is gone.

 

**

 

Louis slips his new shiny shoes onto his feet, and straightens his jacket. He’s about to go and meet the king, and many of his new family for the first time.  It’s like double the nerves, and he just really wants to make a good impression. Not to mention these people being his employers now.  Needless to say, it’s a big night. He takes one last look in the mirror to adjust a piece of loose hair when a voice startles him.

“You really do look stunning.” Harry sits quietly behind him, making sure everything fits to his liking. Louis had forgotten he was there, he was being so quiet. It was a welcome change to what has become a volatile relationship. In fact, since Louis’ comment, and Harry’s sudden departure from the studio that day, these are the most words Harry has actually said to him, allowing Zayn to do most of the follow up fitting.

“Thank you.” Louis replies because really he can’t think of one other thing to say.  He doesn’t want to credit Harry this development, nor does he want to criticize him when they are both are on edge as it is.  Harry seems to feel the same way because he doesn’t elaborate either. “Well, I will be off then.” He makes a move towards the door when Harry blocks him with his body. Louis doesn’t quite know what he is going to do for a moment, but Harry simply brings his hands up to brush the shoulder of his jacket.  He silently steps back out of the way, head bowed.  Louis stares for just a moment before he walks out the door into a car that has been waiting for him.


	5. Chapter 5

The event is a lot more relaxed than Louis had anticipated.  He had always imagined that the first time he met the King and Queen it would be a more grand affair, but he supposes that they will soon be his step grandparents.  Not much need for all of the pomp that the rest of the world gets.  Nonetheless, the room is lavish, and rich, and full of people who he has never met.  

Normally, being in a room full of strangers wouldn’t concern Louis in the least, but he is already somewhat intimidated by the people around him, and not in a hurry to start a conversation. Once dinner, and dessert have been served, and people start to mingle, Louis moves to find his mother, and Dan so as not to be alone for the rest of the evening, but he is soon interrupted by a bright smile, to match a bright head of hair.

“My Lord.” The man greets with a smile, and almost a laugh carrying though his voice.  

Louis says what has become instinct.“Please,  I am not a Lord.” This only makes the man more giddy, belting out a sharp bark of a laugh.

“Yes you are.  No sense of hiding that away.  Have a little fun with it!” He tilts his head down just slightly “I am Viscount Niall Horan. Pleasure.”

Louis quirks a lip, and tilts his head as well.“Pleasure’s all mine My Lord.” The man almost double over in a laugh, and Louis wonders where all of his fervor comes from. Niall instantly grabs him by the arm, and leads him to the nearest exit.

“Let’s walk.” he says, dragging Lous behind him. “Great suit by the way.”

 

Louis feels that this night will not be the story of how he first met the king and queen, but instead how he met the notorious Niall Horan. Niall immediately begins regaling Louis with tales of travels, and adventures. The people who he has met along the way, and the trouble he has gotten into.  Louis needs to do nothing but smile, and laugh. It's not a hard task. Niall is a true character, and Louis is drawn into the stories he's telling, having no idea if they are at all true.

“That reminds me!” Niall jolts out is his own rambling. “I promised someone I would sneak out if this place and go visit him tonight!” Niall laughs as though he just told a joke. “I didn't figure I would find someone fun to hang out with here.” Louis scoffs.

“I have hardly been good company. I have just been listening to you all night. You have been the entertainment here.”

“Hard to find someone who still wants to hear my stories these days. Haz loves them though. I got a few saved up for tonight. You should come along!” Niall practically booms in Louis ear.

“He wouldn't mind a stranger tagging along?” Louis asks, wondering what it is about Niall that is making Louis want to go visit a complete stranger with him. But Niall's excitement is contagious. Louis can't much help it.

“Nah, he's having a little party. Probably wouldn't even notice another body.” Niall giggles a little, and gives Louis a once over. “Although he might notice this one.” Louis blushes at the attention, and Niall gives him a beat on the back. “Don't be awkward. There's nothing wrong with a man admiring another man.”

“No, no it's not that. I quite enjoy admiring a man or two myself.” Louis forces out. He's not good at coming out to people, no matter how many times he's done it.  Niall just grins deeper, if that's possible.

“You definitely need to meet Hazza then, you're his type.”

“So how did you meet this Hazza?” Louis asks after they made their excuses, and made their way to the party. Niall told them they are dressed up, no sense of wasting all that fancy. His words. “I don't remember hearing about a name like that in any of your stories.”

“Oh, it's funny really. Him and I don't really run in the same circles. He's a little more settled down than I am? sadly. Serious about his career and all that. But I was having a birthday, 25th I believe, and my friend Justin asked if he could bring a friend. I of course said yes. The more the merrier am I right?  Well most young guys going to a birthday party just shows up to drink the man's booze, and maybe meet a lady or gentleman to share the evening. But Haz, who I had never met actually searched me on instagram, found out my love for golf, asked Justin and a few others, and got me a new club bag. Embroidered and everything.  AND he baked me a cake. Even put my name on it. Even spelled it right. Nicest guy you'll ever meet.” Niall almost looks out of breath after his speal. And Louis just smirks.

“Are you sure he's not your type mate?”

“Sadly no.” Niall laments.  “I'm a ladies man I'm afraid. If I weren't though, H would be high on the list. But I bet you won't need even an hour with him. I'm playing cupid tonight. It's been way too long since H has seen any action….”He looks at Louis guiltily “ I mean romance.” Louis just rolls his eyes. “Well, here we are. They arrive at a very posh looking building that's not actually too far from his new flat.

“Hazza doesn't do too bad for himself.” Louis observes as they walk up to an inconspicuous black door.

“Not bad at all. He's pretty successful.” Niall rings a button to signal the resident of the building. “Best stylist in the UK, Harry is”

 _Fuck_ is all Louis thinks before the door is opened to reveal Harry Styles standing in front of him.

 

**

 

To his credit, Harry only hesitates for a moment before stepping aside to let the two men through the door. He gives to Niall a big hug, and to Louis a perfunctory handshake before discreetly asking Niall to join him in the kitchen alone. Niall gives a sympathetic glance towards Louis before obliging.

“Louis doesn’t know anyone here. I don’t want to leave him alone.” Niall chides when they are in the confines of the kitchen.

“How in the hell did you end up with Louis Tomlinson?” Harry hisses out in lieu of a response. “He was meeting the king and queen tonight. And you were…”

“Going to a family dinner?” Niall raises an eyebrow, and Harry smacks his forehead at the same time. “How do you know Louis? I was about to introduce you. Set up a little love match.” Niall gives Harry a wink, and an elbow, and all Harry can do is grimace.

“No, no no no. Louis is my living nightmare.  I cannot believe that he is in my home.  My sanctuary. I don’t want him here Niall. He is a life ruiner.” Harry is practically pleading with Niall with his eyes, but Niall is looking at him in disbelief.

“Louis? Nah, he’s great. We’ve been having a right laugh all night. I thought you two would get on so well!”

“Ugh, Niall. Remember than painfully horrendous client that I was telling you about?” Niall sticks his nose in the air, and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Mr. No no no?” Niall questions. “The one who rejects every word that comes out of your mouth?”

“Yes, well you’ve met him tonight. And he’s standing in my foyer as we speak.” Harry sighs, relieved that Niall is finally catching on.

“Did you put that suit together?” Niall asks as he peeks out of the kitchen to catch a glimpse of Louis. Harry dares a glance as well to see Louis standing awkwardly alone in a corner. At least someone passed him a drink.

“Yeah” Harry responds, sounding tired just from the thought of it.

“Well you must have gotten somewhere with him then.” Niall says, looking back towards Harry. “That’s a step, let's go see if we can make it to civil by the end of the night.” Niall then leaves Harry, and makes his way back to Louis’ side. Harry considers crawling out the window, but then he remembers that he lives here, and where would he go?

When Harry finally regains the nerve to join Niall, he is already deep in conversation with Louis.  They seem to be amused by something, Harry does not know what.  It occurs to Harry that he has never seen Louis smile like that. Not even in the many pictures of him out in London with his family.  It’s a beautiful sight.

“Hello” Harry says to the pair, and the smile on Louis’ face immediately drops. Harry can feel the tension rising from Louis’ body, and really feels like going back to the kitchen. Niall has other plans.

“Hazza! Please come settle an argument for us.” Niall wraps his arm around Harry’s neck, and Harry steps easily into it, feeling safe in the presence of a true friend. He nods his head, and continues to not look in Louis’ direction. “Alright. Tomlinson here and I were talking about doing a little spring vacay.” Harry tries to not look as skeptical as he feels. “I say Australia, Tommo here says Monaco. Please inform him that he is wrong, and I am right.”

There is so much wrong with this situation that Harry doesn’t even know where to start. But most of them will have to wait until he gets Niall alone again.  Like, winter vacations? Nicknames? “While both places would probably offer what you two would be looking for in a vacation, Monaco would be my first choice.  It has so much to offer as far as culture, and diversity.” Niall snorts, and rolls his eyes, while Louis continues to stare, eyes narrowed as though he is studying Harry. Harry feels uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but doesn’t say so. He just continues to look towards Niall, good, happy, constant Niall.

“What exactly do you think I am looking for in a vacation Mr. Styles?” Louis demands, voice even, almost curious. Harry simply shrugs.

“Sun, booze, beautiful bodies. What most people look for on holiday I suppose.” Harry answers, trying to sound neutral, and not at all like Louis’ makes him more uncomfortable than any person he has ever known.

“You are not like most people then?” It’s a challenge.  Louis is trying to expose Harry for the man that Harry is sure that Louis thinks he is. Harry isn’t going to bite, he is not going to let this man get the best of him. But he has no idea what to say instead. Does he tell Louis that the only time he has ever travelled is for work purposes? Does he tell him that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and he sees beautiful people everywhere he goes? Does he say that all he wants to do is see Louis draped in a loose gauzy shirt, opened most of the way with a pair of light cotton trousers, and maybe a dark blue fedora, and that scene would fit perfectly under the Monaco sun? No, of course not, because that all sounds incredibly horrible, and creepy, and pretentious to someone who doesn’t know who Harry really is, and Louis refuses to understand him, so what is there to say?

“I have other guests. If you’ll excuse me.” He says instead, and doesn’t look back. He hopes that Louis doesn’t notice that instead of mingling, he goes straight towards his bedroom, and firmly closes the door.

 

**

 

Louis and Niall are left speechless as Harry makes his quick departure, both waiting for the other to speak.  Niall finally cracks.

“That wasn’t cool.” He says, looking towards the closed door of Harry’s room.  

“You’re telling me.” Louis counters. “Is he this abrasive to the other guests as well?”

“Not him you dolt! You!  What have you done to upset Harry so much? I have never seen him this out of sorts in all the years that I have known him.” Niall is giving him a hard stare, but all Louis can do is stare back in confusion.

“Me? He has literally been doing this to me since the day I met him! I kind of thought it was his thing. You know, brooding artist type. I was honestly starting to wonder what you see in him.” Louis crosses his arms, suddenly feeling defensive and alone. The only person he even knows here is attacking him.

“You know, Harry told me about you before. I thought the guy he was talking about was a real prick. I thought there was some sort of misunderstanding, because you are not a prick as far as I can tell. But then he comes over, you act like a dick, and he runs away? Something is going on!” Niall isn’t yelling, but his voice is loud enough to be heard by half the house anyway. Louis feels small, like he’s being scolded for something he hasn’t done at that. “Now you may know what it is, you may not. But you are obviously the root of it, so you have to fix it.”

“Fix it?” Louis repeats.

“There is an echo in here.” Niall rolls his eyes. “Yes, go talk to him.”

“Why? We aren’t friends, we can just never talk to each other again. That would be fine too.” Louis says stubbornly. He’s actually ready to leave the flat altogether, and never come back. Maybe leave London while he’s at it.

“Come on Lou.” Niall pleads, bringing Louis out of his own head. “We have to be friends! Remember the vacation we were just planning? Think of all the adventures! Plus we will be family soon. I want us to be your friend but Harry is my best friend and I won’t be comfortable having a rift there. I will have to choose sides. Please don’t make me choose. Louis sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. How did he get here?

“Alright. I will go in there. I will try to be civil and make a respectable attempt at mending whatever it is you think I broke. I will not admit to causing it, and I will not make any more of an attempt after this. Understand?” Niall nods, smiling again. “It’s all on him after this.” He takes another deep breath, and ignores the pat on the back from Niall that feels more like a shove.

 

**

 

Harry can hear Niall’s raised voice through the bedroom door. He winces at the severity of it. Niall is always raising his voice, but rarely to chide anyone. He feels both proud and embarrassed. Proud that he has a friend who would stick up for him, and embarrassed that he couldn’t do it himself.  

When the commotion dies down again he almost expects to hear a door slam.  Surely Louis won’t actually come in here.  There has to be some limit as to how awkward this day can get. Louis must feel the same way. But he doesn’t hear Louis leaves. He instead hears a light rap on the door. He breathes a quiet _fuck_ before he asks who is there.

“It’s Louis...um Louis Tomlinson.” The voice filters in. Harry freezes for a moment, not knowing what to say, which gives Louis another opportunity to speak. “I don’t want to bother you. I just was wondering if we could talk for a moment” He continues. His voice is different, softer.

“What do you want?” Harry asks, trying to sound neutral at the very least.

“Well, could we chat face to face? Would that be okay?” Louis asks as though he’s talking to a child. Harry would be offended by the tone if it wasn’t actually soothing his nerves slightly. He opens the bedroom door, and steps aside to let Louis through. Louis hesitates for a moment, only glancing behind him  once where Harry had left him  and Niall standing, but Niall isn’t there anymore.  Harry spots him on the other side of the room, laughing loud with some friends. Louis finally steps through the door, and Harry closes it again.

“What do you want?” Harry repeats, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible. Louis just turns towards him with a look of confusion and defeat on his face.

“Honestly I don’t know.” Louis responds with a sigh. “I came to London, got this fabulous job, have a beautiful flat, have met a lot of brilliant people. But then you came in, and just entwined yourself into my life. I can’t seem to get rid of you Styles. Every person I meet tells me how wonderful you are, both professionally, and personally, and I just don’t get it. Since the day we met you have been doing this to me. It’s incredibly frustrating, but we are apparently stuck together, so I thought maybe we could try to start over?” Louis shrugs. “Lay it out on the table so to speak. I tell you what’s bothering me, you tell me what’s bothering you.” Louis pauses again, and Harry can do nothing but stare. Louis stares back until the silence in the room is palpable. “Can you just tell me why you don’t like me?”

Harry freezes. He doesn’t at all dislike Louis. He is absolutely enamoured with him. He wants to be around Louis all the time, but every time he ends up getting that privilege he is met with abrasion, and frustration. Harry has no idea what to do with Louis or what to say to him. “I don’t dislike you.” He manages to force from his lip but that is where the words end. Louis waits for more, but it doesn’t come, and he just sighs, and starts walking towards the door again.

“Ok, I tried. I am going to go.” He says, resigned. Harry thinks this is his last chance, and he just wants to panic, but he can’t because he can’t let this be the last time he has a chance to prove himself to the man. It would be so much easier to keep quiet, and let him walk out, maybe send an email, or a letter later on to try to mend the broken fence, but he knows that’s not sufficient. He builds every ounce of courage to speak.

“Please, not yet.” To his credit, Louis stops, but just barely.  He stands with the door handle in his hand, and doesn’t release it to wait for Harry to continue. “You frustrate me too.” Harry says, a little more bold this time. “I have this passion, Zayn calls it an obsession, but it isn’t I promise you it isn’t.” Louis is standing stalk still, eyes never leaving Harry’s, but not stopping him either. “This suit, that you have on. I chose it because it was made for you. It’s perfect, and you make it that way. But you didn’t listen. You listened to Zayn.” He knows that the sentences are broken, just like his thoughts, but he ploughs on. “I want you to listen to me, but you don’t. I see you Louis, in a way that a lot of people probably don’t. I need for you to trust me. I need for you to see what I see. But you have decided who I am, and do not. And it’s frustrating.”

Louis still looks confused, but he releases the handle of the door, and walks back towards where Harry is standing. “I don’t trust you, that is correct.  You are doing things that make me incredibly uncomfortable, and you give no comfort. Zayn comforted me. He made me feel better about myself. He didn’t have to do that, but he did.  Do you know what you do? You walk out with no explanation. It’s confusing,  worrying, and frustrating.”

“So we frustrate one another.” Harry sumerses.  It puts a hint of a smirk on Louis’ face.

“It seems so. Is there any way we can do anything about that? At least in a professional way?” This is where Harry is struggling the most.

“Can you forget all of the things that you have previously assumed about me?” He sounds more bold than he feels, and Louis looks slightly guilty.

“I can try. Can you be more accommodating to my personal choices?”

“If I have to.” Harry answers. It’s against his better judgement, but at least honest. “Can you remember that I am the expert here, and actually know what I am talking about?” He counters, feeling like he is gaining at least a little bit of ground.

“I can. Now would you like to try to start over?” Louis asks like he did at the beginning of the conversation. Harry merely nods, and extends his hand.

“Hello, I’m Harry Styles.  Nice suit.” He hides the smile on his lips, but he can do nothing about the glint in his eye when Louis rolls his eyes, and laughs out loud.

“Thank you, now tell me everything you know about Monaco.” Harry really does smile at this, and invites Louis to a chair that is near the bed, and sits down to tell him about his latest work trip. Completely forgetting about the past few months, and all of his insecurities that stemmed from it.

 

**

 

Louis can honestly say that he feels a hundred times better after his little chat with Harry.  They were both open, and honest with one another, and Louis feels that even if they don’t become the best of friends, they may still be able to continue having their lives intermingle without it being too much of a strain for both of them. That’s major progress as far as Louis is concerned.

The rest of the evening slips by without much incident. Zayn eventually stops by, and Louis is excited to see a face that he recognises. He, Niall, Zayn and Harry actually end up being the last four left by the end, talking and laughing casually as though they had been friends for ages. Harry stays mostly quiet, and on the outskirts of any conversation, but it’s not as off putting as it might have been the day before, or even a few hours prior. Louis finally yawns long, and hard, trying to cover his gaping mouth with his hand when Harry announces that it’s well past 3 am, and he needs to get to sleep.  

“You are all welcome to stay, but I am bowing out.” He says apologetically.  Zayn simply slips further into the plush couch that he is sitting on, and seems to be set for a few hours. Niall calls for a car for him and Louis, but Louis declines politely.  

“I actually live fairly close. I think I prefer to walk.” He stands to stretch his legs, and moves to retrieve coat that Harry was about to hand to him. Suddenly it’s snatched back though by a concerned looking Harry.

“You can’t just go walking around alone in London, Louis. Not at this time of night.” He states. Louis just shakes his head.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind. I’m sure I will be safe enough. I can practically see my building from here.” He reaches out for his coat, and is again denied.

“You never know what is lurking around. I can’t allow it. You can stay here, or you can go home with Niall.”  Harry demands, and Louis’ hackles are up once again.

“Harry, I am fully prepared to walk out of this flat with or without my coat, now if you were being the gracious host that you claim to be, you will pass it to me, and this conversation can be over before anyone gets truly upset.” Louis can’t help the steel in his voice.  Harry is just staring at Louis, seemingly battling some force inside his own head. He finally sighs, and drops the coat on the nearest chair, walking out of the room without another word.

Louis silently says a prayer for patience before he feigns a look at Niall. Niall looks less than impressed, but is choosing this time to stay out of it. Zayn is doing a beautiful impression of a man sleeping. He’s about to pull a similar stunt to what Harry has just done when Harry is suddenly in front of him again, a coat in his hand.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks him as Harry shrugs the jacket over his shoulders, a look of determination, and frustration clear on his face.  

“Walking you home.” Harry says simply, as he makes his way to the door. Louis doesn’t move.

“Who said I wanted anyone to walk me home?”

“Listen, two people can play this game Louis. This was my party, and not one person has left here tonight that I didn’t feel completely comfortable knowing that they would get home safe. Except you. Either you walk with me, or I follow you while you pretend I’m not there, but you are not leaving my presence without me knowing that you are going to be okay.”

Louis stands speechless. He dares to look at Niall again who is practically shouting “I told you so” with his eyes. He looks back towards Harry who looks tired, and resigned. He does the only thing that he feels he can do in this situation. He puts his head down, and walks through the door without another word.

It gets worse from there. Louis doesn’t actually know his way around very well.  And while he knows the general direction of his building, he doesn’t actually know the most efficient way to get there. Unfortunately, he has someone with him who does know. The unfortunate part is that he is going to have to admit his mistake to the man who accused him of making it to begin with.

“So,” Louis says in the general direction of Harry who is keeping his distance, and keeping silent as well. “Would you like to walk with me?” Harry doesn’t respond, just catches up to Louis, and keeps on moving. Louis knows what he has to do, but he really, really doesn’t want to do it. “I acted like a bit of an ass back there.” He states, feeling out the mood. Harry nods, almost to himself.

“Yup.” He says with no further explanation. Louis trudges on painfully.

“I didn’t realise that you were just trying to look out for me.” Which yeah, that sounds more like making excuses for himself than an apology, but he’s working on it.  For all he knows they could have hours before he gets to his place. Harry simply snorts. “Thank you for being thoughtful.”

“Well what did you think I was doing, Louis?” Harry suddenly blurts out, frustration evident in his tone. “Do you think I like arguing with you?” Harry glances towards Louis who just shrugs.

“Well, yeah. Kind of. You do it all the time.” This is where Harry finally stops. His eyes are bulging with the sheer disbelief of what Louis just said to him.

“I do it all the time? Me??? I have never said a thing to you Louis, not one thing ever that you have not disagreed with. Has this not occurred to you? Have you not noticed that we literally argue at every turn. You can’t honestly believe that it’s all on me.” Louis stops to consider, because yes, he did think it was all Harry.  His silence must fuel Harry because he keeps talking/ranting. “If that was Liam, or one of your friends who told you that you weren’t safe alone at night. Would you have argued? Would you have mocked them in front of their friends? Or would you have taken even a moment to consider that maybe they had your best interest at heart. Christ, you will even listen to Zayn before you listen to me. I bet you would have gone home if Niall had of asked you, and you just met him. What is it about me that makes you so God damned….” Harry huffs through his nose a couple of times, trying to find his words. “Frustrating, stubborn, ornery, sassy.” Apparently he couldn’t settle on just one.  

“Well, what about you?” Louis tries to counter, although he’s flustered, and mostly at a loss for words. “Always telling me what to do, always telling me how I’m wrong. How on earth did I ever make a decision before I met the great Harry Styles?” He belts out loud, and dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, so this is about your problem with authority then?” Harry retorts, as though he’s diagnosing Louis with a pesky illness. Louis isn’t having it.

“I do not have a problem with authority. I have a problem with people who try to be authoritative with me when they have no reason, or right. You are not my better, you are not my boss. I have absolutely no reason to listen to you, or take you into consideration at all.” Louis turns at this, trying to prove his point.

“I bet I could make you.” Harry calls out to him. Louis turns to glare.

“Excuse me?”

“I bet I could make you listen to me.” Harry repeats.  The tone of his voice, and the steel in his eye is something Louis has never seen before.

“And how’s that?” he responds, voice a little shaky, almost nervous about the answer.

“Where are we?” Harry demands. Louis falters, because he honestly doesn’t know. Harry smirks, and casts his eyes to the right where Louis notices for the first time that they are standing in front of his building, and probably have been for the past few moments. He blushes, embarrassed by his own incompetence to see himself home.

“Haha, you know the neighborhood better than a man who has only been here or a matter of weeks. Good trick.” He makes his way towards the large glass doors of the lobby, lit bright despite the hour. He doesn’t realise that Harry is on his heels until he feels his breath on the back of his neck.

“That’s not what I was talking about.” Louis feels something rise from deep within him. Harry’s voice low, and commanding Louis’ attention, the confidence in his tone. He turns to find Harry a mere inches from his face, looming over him, but not boxing him in.  Just demanding Louis see him, notice him. Louis opens his mouth to say...something. But Harry just backs off.

“Goodnight Louis.” And he walks into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

Louis definitely doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night. What he does instead, he’s a little ashamed to admit. He thinks about  the man whom he has felt nothing but exasperation for since the day they met. The man who has continued to be so up until the moment he walked away the previous night is just insisting on infiltrating every space in Louis’ head.  

What did last night mean? And why was Louis so affected? Nothing good can come of them even being friends, that much is obvious to him, but Harry can’t just say things like that to him, especially if he’s just going to leave Louis to fight these demons in his head telling him that he is in some way attracted to that type of behaviour.

“Are you sure you can’t come sooner Nick” Louis pleads to his best mate early the next morning. He hears the pleased chuckle coming from the other end. Nick loves to be needed.

“I could, but I would soon be unemployed, and how could I afford such things as posh vacations to London?” Nick retorts in his usual sarcastic banter.

“That’s perfect, quit your job, come to London, live with me, and be my personal slave.”

“First and foremost, you can’t afford me, I don’t care how much money you are making.  Second, you have a personal slave, and his name is Liam. I don’t think Lima would be too keen on me stealing his reason for living. Which is serving you if you didn’t know. And third, how are you going to shag the sexy stylist if I am kipping on your couch?”

“You know Liam hates it when you call him that Nicholas.” Louis chides, hoping to get him off the topic of Harry.

“Of course he does, that’s why I do it love. And don’t think I don’t remember why you called to begin with. Fuck him. Literally, or let him fuck you. Get it out of your system. You can’t stand the man anyway. What’s a little sex between enemies?” Nick says,like it’s the most obvious solution in the world. Louis sighs, wondering why he ever chose to confide in Nick to begin with, he knew what Nick was going to say before he even picked up the phone.

“This is why you don’t have a boyfriend you know. Your attitude.” Louis jabs at him light heartedly.

“Ha, what’s your excuse then? You’re fuck me trousers haven’t seen the sun in months. Don’t try to tell me any different Mr. Tomlinson. I know you better than I know myself.  Maybe try those on for your next meeting with the great apparel genius. I bet he wouldn’t have as much to say about that choice of clothes would he?” Louis huffs, but says nothing, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. “Anyway, I will be there in three days, just like I said a week ago. I miss you lots though, and can’t wait to see your face. Don’t make plans and leave me alone, I swear to God I will cut a hole in your Ramones t shirt.”

“My only plan for the week is to romance you, I promise you that.” Louis vows into the phone.

“Don’t you wish. Ta!”

 

**

 

“That was...something.” Niall eventually says to Harry.  They are eating brunch in a little market near his place, and have both effectively avoided any talk of Louis until now.

“Yes, something. Thank you for having my back last night by the way. That man special talent is to infuriate me.” He can feel a flush of frustration well up just from remembering the few hours prior.

“Well that much is obvious, and of course I’m going to have your back, but I’ve got to tell you, I was mostly just as confused about the whole situation as Louis.” Harry can tell that Niall is trying to be delicate, but Niall is just a straight forward guy, and he’s going to tell it like it is. “I mean, he didn’t really do anything to cause you to storm off last night.”

Harry blushes. He is well aware that he acts irrationally in Louis presence. He just can’t help it. He just has this uncontrollable need to make Louis obey him. He’s not about to say it out loud though, he’d sound like is a creepy stalker. “We have clashing personalities. It began from the first moment. We tried to talk through some things last night.” He leans back in his chair, and sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe we are just better of staying away from one another. I really want to dress him for his mother’s wedding. I am going to try really hard to keep things civil for the next few months, and maybe we can find a balance.”

“See? There’s the sensible, level headed Harry that I know, and love!” Niall exclaims. “That’s the person you have to be around Louis. Honest man, he’s a great guy. Really sweet with his family, funny as hell, laid back. I honestly thought you two would hit it off as soon as you met. When he told me he wasn’t straight, I thought it was a match made in heaven.”

Harry snorts, and rolls his eyes. “Ever the optimist Nialler. Let’s go shopping.” Harry stands, and Niall groans dramatically, but it’s all an act as he loves clothes almost as much as Harry.

 

**

 

They are strolling casually through the market, it’s quiet for a Sunday, and Harry can never resist the vintage clothes that are haphazardly hung up on the sidewalks. He’s just pulling out a pink floral tunic when Niall gives him an elbow.  He looks up to see Louis. 

He’s across the street, with what looks like a samosa in one hand, passing a vendor a bill for a pair of sunglasses.

“Those are entirely wrong for his face.” Harry blurts out. Niall just looks to the sky.

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?” Harry asks, although he knows exactly to what Niall is referring.

“Louis can pick whatever sunglasses he likes. It’s his face. If he was going to a red carpet event, and asked your opinion on how the sunglasses looked, you could choose to share your opinion then, but right now, let him be happy with his ugly glasses.”

“So you think they are ugly too?” Harry asks, trying to prove his point, and get Niall back on his side.

“No actually, I think they are pretty sweet. I might actually go get a pair.” And with that, he’s off across the street, yelling for Louis while he goes. It’s Harry’s turn to groan, only this time he means it.

When he finally catches up, Niall is just getting Louis’ attention. Louis looks quite happy to see Niall. He barely spares a glance at Harry save a few peaks from the corner of his eye when he thinks that Harry doesn’t notice.

“How’s it going M’lord.” Niall greets Louis, who instead of scowling like he normally does with Harry, smiles bright.

“I’m well, and how are you today fine Sir.” Louis bows, and smirks.

“Just getting a bite with this oaf,” Niall points a thumb behind him, not even looking to see whether Harry is behind him or not. “Sick shades.”

“Oh, yeah.” Louis says, as though he just remembered them in his hand. “I told Liam I would meet him at the park for some football, but I forgot my sunglasses. These aren’t really my style, but I didn’t have time to look through.” He merely shrugs, and puts the glasses on his face. They slip down a little, and Louis makes a disgruntled face, and pushes them back up again.

“Well,” Harry says, speaking for the first time. Louis almost startles. “If you like, I could help you find a pair of sunglasses. Those would probably...fit Niall better. You know, giant head.”

“I take offense to that.” Niall retorts, but still grabs the pair of sunglasses from Louis’ hand, and puts them on. They fit perfectly, and he gives them both a satisfied grin. Louis on the other hand looks apprehensive.

“You don’t have to.” He says more at Harry than to him. Harry can feel the tension rising before anything even happens, but he doesn’t let it get to him yet.

“It will be fun. I love shopping.”

“Well, I only have a few minutes.” Louis says, but moves towards the booth anyway. Niall and Harry follow him, and Harry immediately picks up a pair, and passes them to Louis. 

“These ones.” He says, waiting for Louis to try them on. Louis just stares at him, expressionless. “Please.” He adds on, hoping that will encourage Louis to trust him on this. He does, and Harry is of course right. They look fabulous on. Louis looks in the mirror, and a small smile forms on his face.  

“They actually are almost the same as the ones I have at home. I like them.” He says, which is probably the first compliment he has ever paid to Harry.  

“Thank you.  They are actually my favourite style as well.” Louis just looks at his face, and the sunglasses that are currently perched on his nose, and merely nods.

“Well, thank you for helping me. I best be off. Liam doesn’t handle tardiness well at all.” Louis jokes. Breaking the tension a little.

“Harry, we absolutely have to go with Louis.” Niall states. Louis, and Harry both stop in their tracks. The look on Louis’ face is almost one of terror, although Harry isn’t sure for what.

“What about our shopping?” Harry asks, although he knows where Niall’s loyalties lie between football and clothes.

“Actually,” Louis pipes in cautiously. “Zayn is going to be there as well.”

“My Zayn?” Harry questions. What is this day, what kind of warp did he fall into?

“Yeah, apparently him and Liam have been...seeing each other? It’s the first I’ve heard about it too, but they wanted to hang out today, so here I am.”

“Oh, now we have to go Harry! It will be like a double date or something!”

“Niall!” Harry scolds.  No dating is going on here. Well, apparently Louis’ assistant, and his business partner are dating, but that’s beside the point.

“You can come, the more the merrier.” Louis adds, voice sweet, like it always is with anyone other than Harry. Niall responds by linking his arm with Louis, and leading the way.

 

**

Louis wasn’t lying. When they arrive in the park, where Louis agreed to meet Liam, there is Zayn, standing close to Louis’ assistant, Liam. They are smiling and talking, but when the rest of the group shows up, they do not part like a couple who are just getting to know one another.  They are giving off a very couple vibe.  Harry wonder’s where he has been for this little development.

He catches Zayn’s eye when they are close enough, and raises his eyebrows in question.  Zayn just smiles, and shrugs.  

“Oh, you found friends!” Liam exclaims excitedly.

Harry flicks his eyes to Louis, who just shrugs, and says. “Something like that.” Figures, Harry thinks.  Liam just smiles, and throws a football down.  And that is that.  

They are at park for a couple of hours when Harry notices a few things. First is that Louis is actually really good at football. Even if it’s just a little two on two. He’s very competitive, but at the same time doesn’t hesitate to stop, and give advice, or allow a do over. Niall is not so forgiving, so after the third or fourth time that Niall cussed Harry out for tripping on his own feet, Louis stops the game, and trades him for Liam. The last thing Harry notices is that Louis is working the hardest out of anything to completely avoid looking at, or talking to, or even acknowledging Harry’s existence. Aside from the game that is.

When they are finally tired out, and all lounging on the grass together, Harry tries again to initiate conversation with him, and Louis tries his best to brush him off.

“You don’t have to make it weird.” He mumbles, trying to get the attention of Louis without causing a scene. Louis looks at him, and gives him a hard look.

“Ok” he says before he turns back. Harry just sighs.

“Alright, apparently you do.” He says, almost to himself.

“You made it weird enough for both of us last night mate.” Louis hisses, but with less malice in his tone than pleading.

“Ah, that’s what this is about.” Harry realises. He doesn’t even know why he said that to Louis.  It was a heat of the moment thing.  He almost thought he imagined Louis’ response.  

But there’s no way. Louis can’t stand him. He sneaks a glance over at Louis again, who is currently engulfed in his own mind seemingly. Dealing with some inner turmoil. But if Harry’s words did affect Louis… well that’s a whole new ballgame isn’t it. This weird little feud they have expands beyond their differences in opinion on clothing styles.  Not that Harry could fool himself about it otherwise.  He knows that it goes beyond, but he has never had the interest or energy to figure out how deep this tension between them goes.

“Maybe we should talk.” Harry says, a little more earnest this time.  Louis looks at him with the same kind of hardness in his eyes.  Harry recognises it now as forced indifference, underneath is a battle, he can see it in the set of Louis’ jaw, and the flutter of his lashes when Harry makes eye contact.

“About what?” Louis continues with the short sentences.

“About last night.” Harry continues.

“I don’t have to do anything you tell me to.” Louis says as he turns back around to pretend to pay attention to the conversation that the rest of the boys are having.

“You sound like a five year old, you know.” Harry retorts.

“Well, that’s my prerogative isn’t it?”

“So that’s the way it’s going to be?” Harry almost laughs. Maybe he should. Maybe this is some game that Louis wants to play with him. Louis’ response is to jut his chin out, and end the conversation with silence. This is just a tipping point, because Harry is so beyond tired of this shit that he can’t even believe.

Absolutely done with everything, he gets up and walks to Louis, getting close so only Louis can hear. Louis instantly tenses, but doesn’t look towards Harry at all. “You are incredibly beautiful Louis, and sexy, and so infuriatingly exhausting. And there is a lot of things that I could do with all of those qualities, and do well.  But I’m not doing it like this. If you want me, and I suspect that maybe you do, you know where to find me.” With that he stands again, and addresses the rest of the group with an excuse of an early morning, and some work that needs done.  They all wave him off, wishing him a good evening, and go back to their conversation. Except Louis, who doesn’t move, not even a muscle, except his chest which seems to be working overtime.

 


	7. Chapter 7

“So, what’s on the agenda for today Lou?” Nick asks as he’s stirring his tea on the kitchen counter.  He’s already fully dressed, and appears to have had done his hair.  Louis has no idea how he made friends with a morning person.

“I have to meet with Harry today.” Louis grumbles before taking a sip of his own.

“Oh! The famous Harry Styles!” Nick exclaims, excited. “Are you going to tell him that he got you hard in the middle of the park?” Nick smirks, and takes a sip, ignoring Louis’ dirty look.

“No”

“Are you going to tell him you’ve been wanking over him for the last week?” Nick asks, the picture of innocence on his face.

“Oh my God Nick, why do I tell you anything?” Louis moans.

“I honestly don’t know love, but I’m so glad that you do.” Nick actually giggles at this, and moves towards Louis’ bedroom. “Now, let's find you something appropriate to wear. I can’t wait to meet the man who has brought Louis Tomlinson to his knees.”

“You don’t have to join me Nick, It’s just a fitting for some gala.” Louis hesitates at the door.

“No, you promised me that we would spend every minute while I’m here together. I am not missing this for all the tea in this flat. Which is saying something.” And Nick keeps marching on, a man on a mission.

  
“I can’t believe you talked me into wearing these to a fitting.” Louis rubs his hands on his thighs while they walk down the street. “I am going to have to take these off you know. That will be a sight.” Nick must have found the tightest pair of jeans that Louis’ owns, and paired it with a sheer black t shirt. “You know it’s the middle of the day. I can see through this shirt.” Nick just snickers, and keeps moving, his longs legs striding along casually, enjoying his surroundings. 

“You know who else will be able to see through the shirt?” He gives his eyebrows a raise, and Louis has to roll his eyes to hide the flush that has developed on his face.

They are both giggling by the time they arrive at Harry’s studio, leaning into one another as they talk easily. Harry is standing in the middle of the bright space, waiting patiently.  His eyes glance to Nick, but then when they come back to Louis, they slowly roam from top to bottom.  He doesn’t even pretend he isn’t staring, and Louis doesn’t pretend he doesn’t notice.

“Harry, this is Nick Grimshaw.  He’s staying with me, and wanted to tag along.” Harry’s gaze never wavers from Louis while he’s speaking. “Hope that’s okay.” Harry moves almost in slow motion to extend a hand towards Nick.  Maybe Louis is the one in slow motion. He feels like all of his blood is rushing past his ears.

“Are you asking permission?” Harry smirks at Louis, who instantly scowls.

“I am not.” Louis forces out.

“No matter. It’s not unusual for people to have friends tag along. Let’s get started.” Louis definitely doesn’t miss the emphasis that Harry puts on the word friend. He tucks it away to in his memory.

He makes his way to the small changing area with his first suit when Nick calls to him. “Need some help with those jeans love?” He turns to smile at Nick’s cheekiness, but it isn’t Nick who catches his eye. It’s Harry. There’s a look on his face that Louis can’t really tell if it’s upset, or amusement.  The fist that Harry is currently making kind of tells though. Louis can’t even ignore the pleased feeling in his gut.

“I think I got it babe. Might need help getting back into them though, you know how long it took this morning.” He calls out behind him, not missing the snort that rings out from the large open room.

The suit isn’t bad actually.  It’s pretty simple, straight forward, but still has that little bit of flair that Harry seems to insist in every piece that he puts on Louis.

“It’s sparkly.” Nick says while Louis looks in the mirror, trying to keep a straight face to his antics.

“Not sparkle, speckle.” Harry replies in his usual dry tone, although he’s seemingly talking to Nick, his eyes are on Louis. Louis can’t even stop himself.  He knows he’s being an ass, but it’s just Harry that brings it out in him.

“I would have prefered a sparkle, don’t you think darling?” He looks to Nick, who just shakes his head.  He knows what Louis is doing, and apparently isn’t playing along.

“You want sparkles, I can give you sparkles.” Harry says, still staring, still not moving. Louis isn’t quite sure if they are still talking about the clothes anymore.

“No need Harold. This will suffice. Is there anything else I need to do here today?” He stops off the stage, and begins unbuttoning the jacket.

“I don’t know M’lord. Is there anything else you need from me?” Louis immediately goes into a cold sweat, the memory of Harry close to him, breathing a whispered promise into his ear.  He can’t bring himself out of it fast enough for either Harry or Nick to not notice, and it pisses him off that he’s been caught out.

“Absolutely nothing.” He says, and quickly departs to hide in the dressing room.

They leave shortly afterwards.  Nick wishing Harry a fond goodbye, and Harry courteously nodding his head, Louis and Harry completely avoiding eye contact.  Louis and Nick pick up take away on the way home, and Louis is still mostly silent when they sit to eat.

“OMG, can we do that again tomorrow?” Nick asks around a bite of food. “I haven’t been that entertained in years.”

“Can we not?” Louis quips. Not even able to pretend to take the misery from his voice.

“I can honestly say Louis that I have, in the dozen or so years that I have known you, never seen you ever act like that. It was like being at the theatre!”

“I am sure that I have no idea what you are talking about. And I would really appreciate it if we could change the subject now.” Louis replies.

“Not very likely. So, What is it about this guy? He’s definitely got under your skin.” Louis just stares at Nick, refusing to rehash this conversation.”Well at least tell me what you plan to do about it.” Nick leans forward, revelling in the teen girl drama that is Louis’ life at the moment. Louis pauses for a moment in between picking through his remaining food.

“I’m not going to let him get the best of me, that’s what I am doing right now. I am not going to let him win.” Without another word, he gets up, and throws the rest of his food in the trash, and leaves the room.

  
Of course Louis realises how ridiculous it is to declare war on a man because he turned him on, but Harry is just so...cocky about it.  Like he just knows that Louis is going to come crawling on his hands and knees, begging for whatever Harry has to offer him. Louis has too much dignity, class, and pride to do any such thing, and he is going to prove it, if not to anyone else, but to himself, and more importantly, Harry. 

And, maybe if he spends a little extra time showing Harry what he’s missing in the meantime, that’s his business isn’t it? Harry says he isn’t playing Louis’ game. Please.  He’s playing them, and he will lose.

Louis smirks at the memory of how Louis had affected him this afternoon.  And maybe even Nick being a part of it made it worse. Harry isn’t the only one who can make someone sexually frustrated around here. And Louis has a few more tricks up his sleeve yet.

Nick of course is absolutely delighted at the new development in his few favourite drama. He’s gutted that he is going to miss the next installment.  

“You must call me, and tell me every detail Louis. Every single one.” He almost shakes Louis with his emphasis. Louis rolls his eyes, and gives Nick a hug goodbye. He’s been a welcome distraction in this new world that he’s trying to navigate.Louis wishes he could stay longer.

“You know, you could have stayed on, and been my fake love interest of something. That would have really got him.” Louis teases. Nick puts a hand over his heart, and gasps dramatically. 

“Wouldn’t that be the dream?” he fake swoons, and out the door he goes. Louis is alone once again, with far too much free time to think of a pain in his ass stylist.

 

**

 

The next time he meets with Harry, it's just the two of them again. Louis honestly doesn't know what to expect. Harry was mostly professional on their last encounter, but Louis had Nick there for backup. 

It wouldn't really surprise Louis if Harry makes a comment this time around, after the stuff he pulled while he had nick to help him be brave.

That doesn't, however stop him from wearing the tight jeans again, this time paired with a white t shirt that is nearly as sheer as the black one last time.

When he walks into the now familiar space that is Harry's studio, there is soft music filtering into the space, but no Harry. He looks around for a moment, and considers just walking back out when he realises that he needs this suit for tomorrow night, and he can't really afford to blow this appointment off for the sake of his own nerves.

“Harry!” He calls out, a little weak. Harry immediately appears from the dressing room in the back, looking like walking sex. His hair is up in a bun, and his shirt is almost completely opened. Louis swallows hard, and just watches him swagger into the room, barely sparing Louis more than a glance. He's doing it intentionally,  Louis knows it, takes a little pride in that. Until Harry speaks.

“Do you need me My Lord?” Harry asks, voice cool. Louis immediately stiffens, and he takes a few deep breaths.

“I need my suit. And you have it. But if you want to delude yourself into believing that you have anything I could possibly want, suit yourself.”

“I didn't say anything about want. I said need. Something that you have to have whether you want it or not.” Harry stares hard at Louis, waiting for a reaction. He can wait all he wants.

“I want my suit.” Louis repeats. Harry simply lifts it off the rack, and passes it to him without another word.

It fits, and it fits well. That's to be expected, but Harry keeps staring, and adjusting, and brushing. It's not anything that any other tailor wouldn't do. He's being entirely professional, but it's driving Louis absolutely mad. He keeps his mouth closed as long as he can, knowing that any noise would give away how affected he is by Harry's touch.

And he is, every brush of fingertips are sending shock waves through Louis’ body. He thinks he's got it under control until Harry gets close to adjust his collar. He turns Louis so that they are face to face. Louis can feel the heat of Harry's body on every inch of his own. He can't escape the smell of Harry's cologne, or the bob of his adam’s apple. Then Harry looks at him, his face  centimeters from Louis’, his bottle green eyes intent on Louis’ eyes. And he smiles. Not a grin, not a smirk, just a lift of his lips that let's Louis know that he  _ knows.  _ All of Louis’ secrets, all of his weakness. Louis feels like they are splayed out for Harry to take.

And Harry is taking them.

All Louis can do about it is let him. He stands frozen with Harry's hands on his collar, his eyes searching his soul, wanting to just give it all up to him. Then Harry turns awayand it's all gone.

“It looks fine, take it off, and I'll send it home to you today.” Harry dismisses him as though he weren't even there to begin with, and Louis can barely walk off the stage because his legs seem to have stopped working.

“You're an absolute bastard.” Louis grits out when he finds his tongue again. He's dressed back into his own clothes, and has a garment bag in his hand.

“I'm just doing my job Louis. Is there anything else you need from me?” Louis just turns and walks out the door.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Louis is not entirely sure how he ends up agreeing to accompanying his mother on one of her many dress fittings, but he doesn’t mind. It’s a good excuse for them to have lunch afterwards, and catch up on one another’s lives. It makes him a little sad to realise how little he has been keeping in touch with her since he moved to London. But she will be in the same place as him soon anyway. And surely things will even out once the wedding is over, and he is more settled in his new position. Harry’s face involuntarily passes through his mind as well, but he’s not entirely convinced that things will ever calm down with it comes to Harry.

They are settled in a cafe not far from the dress boutique. Louis sometimes feels like he can tell how posh a food place is by the size of the table.  The smaller the table, the more expensive his dish is.  This particular place has room for a glass, cutlery, and a plate.  

“So, are you settling here alright?” His mother asks when they are finally served. “How is work treating you?”

“Just fine. Everything is really wonderful. I have a great staff, and of course a great cause to work towards. I couldn't ask for better.” It sounds rehearsed, but if Jay notices, she doesn’t say. “How about you? Almost ready for the big day?”

Jay rolls her eyes dramatically at this. “It’s all very over the top isn’t it? This wedding is at least twice the size of my wedding with Mark. A bit much for a second wedding I think. Dan of course is used to all of the extravagance. He is incredibly excited.  It’s just one big family reunion for him.” She chuckles because Dan is so light hearted. And she is incredibly fond of him. She looks like she is a smitten teenager when she says his name. “No matter, at least it will be a chance to meet some of these characters that he keeps on about. Might be a chance for you to meet some new people as well. Are you incredibly lonely here without your crew of mates?”

“I have met a few people. I honestly haven’t had much chance to be lonely yet. Work has been keeping me sufficiently busy.”

“Don’t let it consume you Lou. You need a social life as well.  Try to get yourself out there more.  And not just with Liam.  I love him, but he never turns work off either.” She scolds, knowing him all too well. Louis just smirks.

“Well let me give you a bit of gossip.” Louis leans in close to make the story seem more scandalous than it is. “Liam has met someone.” Jay’s eyes light up in delight. “His name is Zayn, and he is the most gorgeous creature you will ever see.  I hope you get to meet him.” Jay quirks an eyebrow.

“This doesn’t happen to be Zayn Malik?” She questions.

“Yes.” Louis replies, equally curious. “How in the world do you know who Zayn Malik is?”

“Well, I don’t but I was in touch with a lovely young cousin of Dan’s. Niall is his name, such a character. Anyway, he contacted me about adding guests to the list. I of course was skeptical, but Dan assured me that Niall is a very respectable young man, and anyone he would have accompany him to a wedding would be most likely an asset to the guest list. So I agreed.”

“Well, Liam will be most happy to hear this, although I am sure that he was intending to use his plus one on him, so not entirely necessary.” Louis shrugs.

“Oh, it wasn’t just Mr. Malik that was on Niall’s list. There was also a Mr. Harry Styles.”  Louis can feel his throat travel to the pit of his stomach just at the name being mentioned in his presence.

“Harry is invited to the wedding?” He can barely whisper.

“Do you know Harry?” Jay asks, excited to be in the know with Louis’ acquaintances.

“He’s...yes. He’s a stylist...my stylist.” Jay just nods, but Louis doesn’t elaborate.

“That sounds interesting. Very artistic those types.” Louis just nods along.

“Is there any chance that he is coming?” Louis tries to sound as though he’s just being courteous, but he is actually trying to gauge how painful this whole affair is going to be.

“Actually yes! He just rsvp’d. I got it in the post this morning.” Jay seems pleased, but Louis wants to go vomit. She doesn’t seem to notice.

  
  
  
  


Harry is definitely not thinking about the last time he saw Louis.  He’s definitely not thinking about the look of almost desperation in his eyes at Harry’s teasing.  He can’t even imagine what he could do if Louis actually let him tease. It would be the most beautiful thing Harry thinks that he would ever see. He jumps, and swears out loud when the ringing of his mobile jolts him out of that fantasy. 

“Yes?” He asks, sounding too annoyed for just standing in his kitchen, pouring a cup of tea.

“Bad time?” Niall’s booming voice jumps into Harry’s ear, making him take the device away from his face a little.

“No, sorry babe. Just caught me off guard. What’s up?”

“Wanna go out tonight, need pretty people around me.” Harry chuckles, because that’s Niall’s backwards way of saying that he needs a wingman. But a compliment is a compliment.

“Niall, why are you still in London?” Niall is a drifter, he’s lucky he was born rich is all Harry thinks, because he would never be able to manage a 9-5.

“Thought I would stay on until the wedding, save a plane ride.” Niall responds casually.

“The wedding isn’t for weeks.”

“I’ve got time.” Niall brushes him off, “Are you in or not?” Harry sighs at his friend's lack of rules, and boundaries. But that is what makes Niall who he is, and that’s what makes

Harry love him.

“Yeah, I’m in.

  
Harry thinks that Niall has possibly found the most pretentious club in all of London. And Harry had been in some pretentious places in his life. But the music is good, the drinks are really good, and they have vip booth. Niall has invited a few other people as well. Mostly he doesn't know any of them, but that's typical of Niall as well. He thinks that if people have him in common, that's enough to make them get along. 

He really has no interest in dancing, or hooking up. His talents are more geared towards sitting in the corner, and comforting ladies who get their hearts stomped on by assholes that don't know a good thing even when it's right in front of him. He doesn't know how he became that guy when he gets together with friends, but he's accepted his fate.

He's currently consoling a young lady who is near tears because she just got flat out rejected. The girl has had a lot to drink, but Harry still rubs her back, and pets her hair, listening to her encounter.

“...and then he looks and me….and says that he's gay!” She finishes off hysterically. Harry tries to not laugh, or be insulted that this girl assuming that her conquest telling her that he is gay is some sort of brush off.

“Are you sure that he's not actually just gay love?” Harry tries to be gentle with her, but she looks at him like he told her that her dress was ugly.

“Louis Tomlinson is the most eligible bachelor in all of London right now. If he was gay, I would know.” She says with authority. Harry tries to hide the surprise that jolts through him.

“Louis Tomlinson is here?” He tries to be calm. She just points a frustrated finger in the general direction of the dance floor.

It takes a few moments to spot him, but he eventually does. And he shouldn't be surprised given that they are in a dance club,  but he can't help the jolt of shock that he gets watching Louis grinding and moving his hips to the beat of the music. He's dressed in a simple white t shirt, and those impossibly tight black jeans. Only they are rolled up a bit to show a delicate,  tanned ankle above his low cut shoe. Harry can't believe that it has taken him this long to notice how beautiful Louis’ ankles were,  and immediately starts dreaming of short cut trousers, and low cut shoes.  

“I could go and talk to him.” Harry offers. He feels a bit bad about being sneaky, but in  all honesty, looking towards Louis again,  moving to the music, one hand resting delicately on his chest, eyes closed, enjoying the sounds, Harry can't believe anyone would assume he's not gay. The girl just nods, more like brushes him off in favour of nursing her fresh drink, and he escapes as fast as his feet will take him.

He picks delicately through the mound of sweating dancers , trying to avoid being approached by any interested hands, or bodies. He finally makes it to Louis’ side without him realising he's being watched. He has to get close for Louis to hear him,  but it doesn't seem to bother Louis, he just keeps on moving. 

“You hurt my friends feelings over there.” Louis snaps his head around to see Harry standing beside him. But instead of the usual weariness, and trepidation that he normally gives, he simply follows the line of sight that Harry is directing him. When he sees the person who Harry is referring,  he simply smiles, and keeps dancing.

“She is drunk.”  Harry hums in agreement, but stays close.

“So, are you not out?” He asks. Louis doesn't stop to answer,  just turns so that he's facing Harry.

“I'm not  _ not _ out. I just don't go announcing it to everyone I meet.” He just shrugs, and smiles. Harry can see the glaze in his eyes, and smell the tang of alcohol on his breath. “I guess the tabloids have decided to ignore that little bit of information about me.” Louis doesn't seem to concerned. “Are you out?”

“I'm a stylist. Everyone assumes I'm gay anyway.” Harry quirks a lip, but Louis let's out a full laugh.

“Maybe I should have been a stylist.” Harry doesn't respond, but shakes his head.  

“So you don't mind dancing with a man?” Harry asks, starting to move a little with Louis. It doesn't slow him down in the least.

“Depends on the man.”  Louis replies. Harry doesn't know if he's oblivious about the fact that he's already dancing with Harry, or just being a shit. Harry decides to play along anyway.

“How about this man?” He asks, voice low, and smooth. Louis just smirks, and starts dancing more dramatically.

Harry has no trouble keeping up to Louis. He can certainly dance, but he finds himself distracted. He just wants to watch Louis move, he wants to see the look of bliss on his face when a song he likes comes on. He wants to see his hands flown through the air as though they were their own entity. Everything Louis does is smooth, and pretty.

Louis finally puts one of those hands on Harry's chest, most likely to steady himself. It makes Harry's heart quicken just a little, and Louis almost immediately moves in closer to his body.

“I do find you attractive you know.” Louis says, eyes focused on Harry's chest, as opposed to his face.  Harry doesn't respond because he really doesn't know how. “I want the things. ...the things that you think I want. I want them.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks. He feels like he's falling down a slippery slope. He is trying to maintain some sort of control.

“Are you going to give them to me Harry? Are you going to make me do what you want?” Harry swallows hard, and tries to think fast. Fuck yes he wants it, but he is 100% sure that the only reason that Louis is saying these things is because he's incredibly drunk. Even more so than Harry originally thought. His panicking thoughts are abruptly seized though because he suddenly has Louis’ lips on his.  

Louis is kissing him, hard and demanding. It's so hot, it's like there are fireworks exploding from his belly. He instinctively puts a hand up to the back of Louis’ neck to keep him there. Scared that he will disappear if Harry doesn't keep him firmly in place. Louis is happy to comply, completely melting into Harry's body. He can feel every inch of Louis against him, still moving to the music slightly. He can feel Louis’ tongue on his lips, and as much as he wants to claim his tongue, and suck on the pout on his lips, Harry couldn't. He pushes away abruptly, leaving Louis frozen in place, completely confused.

“You're drunk.” He says simply.

Ironically telling him that seems to sober him up slightly. The walls that Louis seem to always have are immediately back up,  and he's recoiling from the remaining physical contact. His eyes dart around him,  and Harry suddenly realises that he's looking for the nearest exit.

“I've got to get out of here.” Louis says, and then bolts. Harry sighs, and slowly begins to follow him out of the building.

  
He's once again picking his way through the dance floor when there is a hand on his arm. He looks back to see Niall bringing him in for a hug around the neck.  He's surrounded by a mixed crowd. They all seem to have one thing in common, they're all pretty drunk. Harry takes a desperate look towards the door before he focuses his attention back on his friend.

“You're not leavin’ are you Hazza?” Niall slurs, gripping Harry tighter.

“No, there's…..Louis….Louis Tomlinson.” Harry considers trying to explain, but knows that there's no use. Niall eyes him skeptically.

“You're not spatting with Lou again are you Haz? Honestly I can't imagine what ya have to fight about. Such nice boys.” He pats Harry's cheek as he says this. It's too hard, and stings, but Harry doesn't complain. Just lets Niall be himself.

“I just want to make sure he didn't walk out of here, and straight into traffic, that's all.” Harry tries to sound innocent, disinterested even. Niall looks at the door, and back to Harry.

“See?” He announces to his audience, “Nice boy!” There's a chorus of feminine giggles that follow and Niall releases him, and moves on to his next destination. Harry tries his best to not bolt for the door, but he knows that's exactly what he does.

  
  
  


Harry isn’t actually expecting to see Louis still around when he steps into the cool air outside the club. The pounding thrum turning into mostly silence as the door shuts behind him. But he is also not at all surprised when he sees a figures half standing, half slouching against the grimy back wall. Louis looks as though he is about to pass out completely by the time Harry makes the short strides to reach his teetering form. If Louis notices him there, he doesn’t acknowledge it. But he does try to stand, and when he does he nearly falls.  He would have fallen had Harry not been there to catch him.  Louis makes no move to remove himself from Harry’s grasp when it happens, just clings tightly to Harry’s arms, and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder gently. 

“What are you doing to yourself here?” Harry tries to make it sound light, like it’s a joke, but he just doesn’t see Louis as the type of person to get passed out drunk at a club.  Nevermind that he seems to be here alone.

“Ugh.” Louis says, barely able to form words. “F--f---frust.” And Harry gets it.

“Frustrated, right. Anyone in particular that is poking a thorn in your side?” Again, trying to make light.

“Like you don’t know.” Louis responds with as much venom as he can muster. Wonderful.

Then he hears a less angry sound, and more of an angry kitten sound coming from Louis.  He’s holding his head, still relying on Harry to keep him off the pavement. He’s hurting, maybe emotionally, maybe physically, but this isn’t the place for that.  

“Mind if I get you home?” Harry asks, expecting more fight, more anger.  He just gets a nod, and pulls out his phone to call a cab.

 

**

 

The first thing Louis registers when he becomes conscious is the demanding thud thud thud behind his eyes.  Wow, he got drunk last night. He reaches for his phone that he usually has the sense to put beside his bed, no matter how out of it he is.  He reaches, and finds nothing but air.  He’s on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe…. He opens his eyes to see that he’s in a room that he completely does not recognise, and he has no recollection of how he has gotten there. The second thing that Louis registers is that he can smell bacon.  There’s someone else here.  He has no idea who.  It’s incomprehensible to him that he may have gone out and picked someone up in a club with not even a hint of memory about it.  He quickly mentally checks all body parts, and he is is pretty confident that he didn’t have sex.  He clears his throat, that seems ok too.

In reality, the last person he remembers having any contact with last night was….

“Hi.” Just then, the door opens, and there stands God damned, bloody Harry Styles. “I, uh, made breakfast if you’re up for it.” He speaks slowly, seemingly gauging his reception in the room.  Louis just glares at him, because he has no idea what else to do. “Do you, like, need any hints as to what happened last night, or…?” Harry seems unsure of himself.  It gives Louis a small bit of satisfaction.  Harry doesn’t seem to be in his element when he’s not scrutinizing Louis physically, and making him want things he really shouldn’t want.

“Yeah, that would be great.” Louis deadpans, Harry nods.

“Well, at least come and have a cup of tea.” Then he’s gone again.  Louis sighs heavily, and moves to get up.  Oh yeah, the pounding in his head, and the flip of his stomach too it seems.  He grits his teeth, and powers through it.  He doesn’t need Harry seeing him weak.

  
He sits gingerly in the kitchen that is at least a familiar place from the party he attended weeks back.  Harry is pouring hot drinks into mugs, and there is a plate already sitting in front of him.  He ignores it in favour of asking Harry a few questions.  

“Did we have sex?” He says it abruptly, no lead in, Harry just about spills his tea, but to his credit he immediately starts shaking his head.  

“No, of course not.” He says it like the option is completely off the table.  He’s pretty sure it isn’t, as far as Harry is concerned, but he believes him either way.

“Why am I here then?” Louis demands, not wanting any further explanation from Harry than need be.

“Well, you were drunk-” Harry starts, but Louis cuts him off.

“No, why am I  _ here _ ?” Harry winces, like he was trying to avoid that question. But he is going to answer.  Louis can tell. So he stays silent, waiting for Harry to speak.

“Well, we...talked.” Harry rubs the back of his neck.  “You, you didn't like how the talk ended up.”

“Nothing new there.” Louis mumbles.

“You went outside. I followed you. You know, to make sure you didn't throw yourself Into traffic or something.” Louis points a glare at him that indicates that he doesn't believe in the least that's why Harry followed him. Harry doesn't kick up a fuss though. “You weren't really fit to get yourself home, so I offered to get you out of there.” He ends with a shrug, as though anything relating to the two of them is simple.

“Why in the hell didn't you take me home? You know where I live.” Louis tries to reason. Harry just shrugs again.

“I didn't feel comfortable leaving you alone like that. I wanted to make sure you didn't choke on your own vomit or something.” It makes sense Louis supposes. And he hates that it does.  

“There's just something about you Styles. Something that makes me so….”

“Frustrated. Yes, I know.” Harry sounds incredibly tired of the word, maybe the entire topic.

“Well, can't you just stop?” Louis asks feebly. Louis isn't entirely sure what it even is that he wants Harry to stop, or if there's anything.

“Can I stop frustrating you?” Harry smirks, the conversation finally steering back into his comfort zone.

Louis isn't taking that bait. He isn't.  He downs his tea as quickly as possible, because frankly he needs it,  and marches straight for the door. He pushes only long enough to say a flippant. “Your presence won't be required at my mother's wedding. Thanks anyway. Then he leaves, not waiting for a response. Or more likely scared to hear one.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Fucking, fucking Harry Styles.  Louis thinks as he stares at a blank page on his phone.  He’s actually sitting in his office considering the idea of sending Harry Styles a text. An apology text no less. All he wanted to do was get the hell out of his flat, and have some fun.  Some Harry Styles free fun.  But then of course he had to drink half of the bar to get the cursed man out of his head, and low and behold, who shows up?  The man of the hour.  

Of course he would take care of Louis. Of course Louis now has a reason to feel bad for the way he had treated him the next morning. Louis almost wishes that Harry had left him on the side of the road.  Maybe he would have gotten mugged, a good reason to continue to despise Harry Styles, but no, Harry took care of him, made sure he was safe.  Cooked him breakfast even.  Which leads Louis to the painful realisation that he cannot hate Harry, and if he’s being honest with himself, never has.  

Which is why he’s staring at his phone, trying to word a text to Harry that will say that he feels remorseful, without actually having to say that he’s sorry.  

_I don’t think I thanked you for taking care of me the other night._

A text almost immediately comes through.

**_You haven’t_ **

Arrogant as ever.

_Well, thank you.  I overreacted to being with you that morning. It was uncalled for._

**_That was my thought._ **

_Well anyway, there was no reason for me to ask you to not come to my mother’s wedding. You were invited. You should come._

Louis takes a deep breath as he sends his last text. He tries to ignore that his heart speeds up a little waiting for a response. He luckily doesn’t have to wait long.

 **_Of course I’m coming, I’m bringing your suit._ **  

Louis doesn’t know if that was an attempt at a joke, but he smiles a little anyway. He also doesn’t text back for fear of trying to joke back, and turn this into some twisted text flirting. But he still can't help the little thrill of butterflies in his stomach.

 

It’s a classic scene. Louis is sitting in a tiny room, the entire place a bit of a disarray. There seems to be clothes everywhere, and his mother is fidgeting with the sleeve of her flowing lace wedding gown. She has her hair done, and her makeup on. She needed some time to herself, and Louis is so delighted that he gets to have these few moment of just the two of them before everything gets really hectic.

“Come sit a minute mum.” Louis coaxes her gently to a chair.  She looks at him like she hasn’t heard him for just a second, showing Louis how nervous she actually is. “Big deal isn’t it?” He asks.

“It’s a royal wedding.” She replies as though this is the first time the fact had occurred to her. “ This is something that I should be watching on telly right now. Now I am…” She gestures wildly around, hammering home just how absurd she feels all of this fanfare is.  

“Do you think you’re going to be okay?” He tries to make it sound more light than it comes out.

“Oh, of course dear. This is just a few hours of nonsense. Nothing really to endure. I do have my babies near, and friends too.” She smiles brightly, like a mother does when they don’t want their children to worry.  

“What about the rest?” Louis pushes. “You are a royal now. If you and Dan have children.  They will be royal blood. It’s a big deal.” Louis leans forward, and takes her hand in his, squeezing gently.  He doesn’t know if it’s for her comfort or his own.  She just squeezes back, and smiles brighter.

“It’s worth it. Dan is worth it. I wouldn’t care if he rose to King, or he disowned all of them, and decided to become a pop singer. He’s worth it. “ Her final sentence is firm, and decided. This isn’t a decision that she has taken lightly, not that Louis would ever think it was, but it’s a comfort none the less.  He relaxes, and makes to pull away, but she holds his hand firm.

“Sometimes you have to look past the trivialities that a person can bring to a relationship. No one is perfect, and you will die a lonely man waiting for a night and shining armour. Just some food for thought. “ She’s staring at him with conviction, and he knows that she can’t possibly know about what’s been going on with Harry, he hasn’t even told anyone.  But he feels that familiar tightness in his stomach every time Harry’s name is mentioned, or he thinks about him, or he tries to not think about him, so whether or not she is talking about Harry, he is pretty certain that she is talking about Harry.  

Fuck, he’s going to see Harry again.  He hasn’t laid eyes on him since the club incident.  It’s been weeks.  Harry hasn’t tried to contact him at all.  But Louis just can’t seem to stop thinking about him, about that tiny moment when Harry let his guard down, and Louis basically threw it in his face.  He has no idea what to do, or how to feel, or what to say, Nor does he know what Harry is going to do when he sees Louis for the first time.  Maybe that morning was the last straw for Harry. Louis knows that he should feel relief at that though, but he doesn’t.  Not even a little.

  
  
Louis has his own room to get ready,  His sisters are off doing what they are doing, Dan has his own crew of people to spend the morning with, and his friends are all out being guests, and doing whatever it is that guests do at these things.  

When he walks into the small room, it is empty.  He lets himself give a little sigh of relief at that.  That is until he sees his suit, hung up carefully on a hook on the wall.  Harry has been here.  The immediate question that runs through his mind is whether Harry felt the same relief that Louis just felt when he found the room empty.  He wonders if Harry left as soon as he could get his things set up properly.  Louis is starting to wonder if he will ever actually see Harry Styles again.

The suit is blue, and so fitted, that it feels like it was sewn onto Louis’ body. His shirt is white, with a short collar, no tie which Louis appreciates greatly.  He slips into a beautiful pair of brown leather shoes that feel like he has worn them a thousand times already, and perched on a little table next to the suit are a brand new pair of aviators.  Just like Louis loves.  Just like the ones that Harry had chosen for him that day in the market.  Only these ones look about ten times more expensive.  He slips them on for only a moment, realising they would be silly to wear until they are outside for the garden reception.

Just as he slips them into his coat pocket, the door opens behind him.  He doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is, but he is glad that he does because the picture in front of him is something that he would never be able to imagine.

Harry is in head to toe black, his hair is hanging loose, and his suit jacket is buttoned tight.  He looks the picture of formal elegance in a way that Louis has never seen him before.  His shoes are gleaming so brightly that the light is shining off of them.  He has one foot tucked behind the other as he stands, seemingly assessing Louis is a similar manner. The lone piece of flare that Harry had allowed himself is a bright blue ring that is shining on his left hand.  It’s heavy, and takes up a lot of the base of Harry’s middle finger.

Louis feels that he has to do something to ease the tension in the room.  He clears his throat, gaining the attention of Harry.  “You look nice.”He croaks out, feebly.  Harry simply nods.  He knows that he looks good.  Of course he does, and Louis doubts that he cares how Louis feels about it anyway.  “This suit, this is really great.  Thank you.  It fits me so well.”

Harry smiles a little at this, and nods again. This seems to have been his cue to approach Louis, and start to do his usual inspection.  Louis turns around, and stares at the mirror as Harry has instructed him to do many times when they were at the studio. Harry starts, tugging at the jacket, and sweeping his hand down the legs of Louis’ trousers.  There is still silence save a few mumbles coming from Harry. He finally stands, and steps back again, seemingly satisfied with his work.  And seemingly because Harry has yet to actually say a word to him.  

Louis feels that he will explode from the nerves that are running through him.  He feels compelled to get at least some sort of reaction from Harry.  “What do you think?” He asks, once again getting the attention of Harry’s eyes on his face.  Arry gives one last sweep of Louis’ boy before he answers.

“Acceptable.” Harry finally says.  And what?

“Acceptable?” Louis repeats wondering if maybe he didn’t actually hear right.

“I worked with what I had.” Harry simply shrugs as though he isn't tearing Louis down.

“Excuse me?”He asks, with his voice a little higher, and a hand on his cocked hip. Harry rolls his eyes.

“It's not your body that's the problem Louis. It's your God awful sense of style. I could have done so much more with a suit for you. It could have been bold,  and fun, but sexy. I had at least ten suits that I had to completely dismiss because they didn't fit your atrocious standards.” Harry actually wrinkles his nose as though Louis’ _atrocious standards_ are a foul stench permeating the air around him. Louis doesn't think he has ever been more livid.

“I cannot believe that after all of these months we are still having the same fight. Oh My God Harry. Just don't Fucking work for me then. Why the hell are you even here right now? Why?” And it's at this moment that Louis wonders why he had let this happen as well. Why is he letting himself be tortured by this man who causes his blood pressure to rise every time they are in the same room. And why he thinks it's ok to let a person treat him like this. He has decided that he's had enough.

“Do you know what? I'm done, and so are you.” Louis starts unbuttoning the jacket, ripping it off as though it's offending him by being in his presence. “I'm sure someone in this place could lend me a suit to wear.” He continues as he untucks his shirt, and begins to unbutton that as well. “Nevermind I will be in a too big, or too small borrowed suit for my own mother's wedding.” He unbelts his trousers,  letting them drop to the floor around his ankles. “Maybe I could convince Liam to make a rush trip to my flat.” He stands there In nothing but his pants that cling tightly to his skin.

It's also the first time he looks towards Harry at all, and he's not surprised to see Harry fuming, stalk still in his place, fingers twitching slightly. Otherwise,silence. Louis takes one more bold move. He takes one large step toward Harry. “You can go now.”

Harry doesn't move a muscle, just stares at Harry with those piercing eyes. Finally he opens his mouth. “Put the suit on Louis.” His voice is low, and commanding. Louis just shakes his head.

“I will not, I think I'll call Liam, see if he can actually do something for me.” Louis sing songs, and walks towards where he left his mobile. And just because he's an ass he adds. “Or Zayn.” That comment awards him a gasp. He smirks in victory.

“Put the suit on Louis.” Harry repeats as he attempts to dial Liam’s number.  The adrenaline is making his hands shake. Or maybe he doesn't actually want Liam to come. Maybe he wants to hash this out one on one.

“Apologise.” Louis throws back at him. Forgetting the phone.

“You're being a child.” Harry counters.

“That's not an apology.”

“If you don't put the suit on Louis I'm….” Harry seems at a loss for threats.  Louis is delighted. The upper hand is finally his.

“Or what Styles? What are you going to do?” Louis mocks him. This serves to agitate Harry even more until all if a sudden, the anger is all but gone, replaced by a look of determination. He brings a hand to his own suit jacket, and begins to unbutton, a vindictive smile playing on his lips. Louis realises in this moment the mistake he has made in underestimating Harry.

“Put the suit back on.” Harry repeats, hand touching the lapel of his coat, waiting for a response. Louis just crosses his arms, and lifts his chin. Harry shrugs, and off goes the jacket. He makes to pull out his sheer black dress shirt, that Louis has discovered is covered in red roses under the jacket.  Harry's unbuttoning it, and he pauses for only a moment, looking for Louis to make a move, he doesn't,  so the shirt goes too. Louis can't help but stare. Harry's torso is littered in tattoos,from stylish,and intricate pieces to what look like dates, and Greek symbols.  They are everywhere. Louis feels like he could spend hours tracing them with his finger.

Harry clears his throat, and Louis is brought back to focus on what he's doing. Harry's hands are on his belt. “Are you going to put the suit on Louis?” He asks this time. Louis wants to give him a snarky  response. He wants to seem defiant, but all he can do is shake his head no, and keep staring at Harry's muscles. His hands moving to remove his belt, eyes never leaving Louis. The trousers are gone, and there stands Harry. Naked. He wasn't wearing pants, and completely called Louis’ bluff. Louis let's out a ragged breath,  and can only stare at the picture in front of him. He barely registers Harry's voice, low, and gruff.

“So I finally have your attention now?” Harry takes a step towards him, and Louis can only say a mumbled _fuck_ before Harry’s lips are on his, and Harry's hand is on the back of his neck. It's the most intense feeling that Louis has ever felt. It's as though every feeling of anger, and frustration, and confusion is being crashed with all of those feelings coming from Harry. It's like a battle of who is more affected, just like everything else in their relationship.

“Fuck” Louis says as they part, gasping for breath.

“Are you going to listen now? Do as I say? Give me what I want?” Harry growls into Louis’ mouth. Louis whimpers. He doesn't mean to, but it just fuels Harry. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” Louis breaths, allowing a great weight to lift from his shoulders.  Harry is finally going to give him what he wants. And he doesn't have to pretend he doesn't want it anymore.  

“Good, now I'm going to fuck your pretty little ass, and then your are going to put the suit on, and go watch your mother get married. Right?” Harry demands. Louis nods his head, quick to obey. He doesn't know if he could get any harder just from Harry's voice. That is until Harry touches him again.  

His pants are gone in one swift movement, and he's being pushed towards a small couch in the corner of the room. Harry sits down, and pulls Louis into his lap. Their dicks line up, and the sensation brings a high moan from Louis. They kiss again, and this time it's not as demanding, Harry takes his time to lick into Louis’ mouth. Louis feels like he's getting more desperate for attention by the second. He grinds down onto Harry's lap, and it gets him a quick tap on the bottom. “Don't be greedy.” Is all Harry says. This does absolutely nothing to stave off Louis’ raging need. But Harry has other plans. “My wallet is in my trousers.  Go get it.” This would of course be Louis’ cue to tell Harry to get it himself, and he is almost curious to see what Harry would do if he did say that, but now isn't the time. Louis needs Harry as quickly as possible. He jumps up,  and finds the wallet easily enough. He also locks the door quickly before climbing back onto Harry's lap. It gets him another deep kiss.

“There are so many things I want to do to you. God I could make you feel things that you've never felt before Louis. But we don't have time.” He coats his fingers with lube while he says it, and doesn't hesitate to plunge a finger into Louis’ hole unceremoniously. Louis whimpers, and he has a feeling that that's just the reaction that Harry was looking for. He quickly works Louis over, not giving any time for second guesses, or any sort of suspense. Harry's on a mission, and that mission is Louis.

Louis on the other hand is a mess. Every thrust, every added finger just adds to the pleasure that Harry is giving him.  It's not long before he's begging for more, and more than willing to take whatever Harry wants to privilege him with. “Please please please” He begs into Harry's shoulder, barely able to hang on.  

“Tell me what you want.”

“You, want you.”

“That's not the answer I was looking for.  Try again.” Harry keeps his pace with his fingers, but doesn't move to give him any more or any less.

“Want your dick inside me. Please.” Louis whines. With that Harry jabs his prostate causing Louis to jump, and curse.

Harry easily pulls his fingers out, and they are almost immediately replaced with a hard, long dick. Louis shouts out until Harry covers his mouth, and reminds him that they are in are public place. “You're going to come first.” Harry tells Louis. Louis just nods because he is fine with that.  Harry starts pumping into him, and at the same time lifting Louis up and down by the hips, not allowing Louis to do any of the work at all.

“I'm not going to last long.” Louis manages to slur out. He can feel Harry's nod, and continue to pound into him relentlessly. All Louis can do is hold on,  and chase his orgasm. He doesn't have to chase long though because it's racking through his body within moments of warning Harry. It's so powerful that he goes limp, and whites out for a moment. Until he can feel Harry chasing his own orgasm inside Louis. He's sensitive, and whimpers with every thrust, but Harry holds him tight until he's arching into Louis, holding on tight as the wave of pleasure washes through him.

They sit there for a moment, catching their breath when they are both jolted out of their little world by a rap on the door.

“Lou, they need you for pictures!” It's Liam.

“Give me a second.” Louis replies feebly.

“Only a second, you've had ages.” Liam scolds him through the door.

Louis looks up at Harry, whose lap he is still sitting. He's met with the same eyes, the same glare. Nothing has changed. His heart sinks.

“This was a mistake. Fuck...I have to go.” He jumps up, and runs for his clothes, hoping they aren't too wrinkled. He gets dressed in record time, and spares a quick thank you prayer that his hair is still intact.

He doesn't even look at Harry again before he walks out the door.

  
The wedding is grand, and elegant, and his mother looks so beautiful, and happy that Louis cries. Real life tears.  As soon as he sees her coming down the aisle hall thoughts of Harry Styles, and what had happened not even an hour before , vanishes from his mind.  And he’s grateful for that once he allows himself to think about him again.  Because as soon as the ceremony is over, and the couple make their rounds of congratulations, Louis’ stomach instantly knots again.  

He can’t believe that he let himself fall that far.  He can’t believe that he even for a second thought that things could be something else. The look that Harry gave him.  There was nothing, he felt nothing, Louis was nothing.  In all of the moths that he has been dealing with Harry Styles, he had never felt so small, so worthless.  

He’s on edge for the remainder of the evening.  He tries to not be, rhe really does, but every time he walks into a new part of the garden, every time he hears a voice with a low baritone, he jumps a little. He’s an actual mess a few hours in, and he hasn’t even laid eyes on the man yet.  

Then it hits him.  Louis hasn’t seen Harry since the dressing room.  Not even a glimpse through the crowd.  It’s been hours. If Louis though his nerves couldn’t get any worse, he’s dead wrong, because a feeling forms in his stomach that rivals any of the reservations about seeing Harry again.  It turns out that not seeing him is a far worse prospect.

Louis actively starts moving through the crowd now.  There is a chance that Harry decide to leave early, Louis tells himself. He moves through crowds of faces that he doesn’t recognise, smiling, and ducking around people who seem to want to stop him to speak. He finally finds a familiar face in the midst of a loud story that requires many hand gestures.  He tries to wait until the story comes to a natural end, but this is Niall, and he seems to live for an audience.  Finally Louis grabs him by the arm, and asks if he’s seen Harry.

Niall just smirks. “What are ya looking for Harry for?” he asks, slurring his words a bit. Louis just goes red, maybe from frustration, maybe from embarrassment.  He’s not in the mood to analyze his own emotions at the moment.

“There’s just something I need to discuss with him. I was wondering if he’s left already.  I’ll ask someone else.” Louis makes to leave, but Niall pulls him back into a half hug.  

“I’m just playin with ya Lou, truth is, I figured he decided to not come at all.  Haven’t seen him.”

“Not even at the ceremony?” Louis turns to face him.  Niall just shrugs.

“Yeah, said he was coming, told me he would wait for me outside.  He never showed, so I come in without him. Not really like him, but I figured something come up.” Louis’ stomach drops, even more than it had been.  Something come up alright.  Something that caused Harry to leave. Fuck, this is too complicated.  Louis can't think straight.  He barely acknowledges Niall's hand on his shoulder, telling him that he was going to get another drink.  He shakes his head a the offer of one for Louis as well, and he’s alone again.  Relatively.

He finds a bench near a calm, blue pond on the edge of the garden. There aren't many people there, as it’s quite far from the music, and drinks.  He sits down, and reaches for his phone.  He has no idea why he’s even feeling a need to reach out to Harry.  But here he is, and he knows that he isn’t going to be able to just not know where they stand.  At least texting is less painful than hearing his voice again, he reasons with himself.  

_You didn’t have to leave_

In Harry;s usual fashion, Louis doesn’t have to wait long for a response, although usually never something that Louis wants to see. And today is no exception.

**_I didn’t have to stay._ **

Something snaps in Louis.  Something he didn’t even know was building up.  It was all of the chances that he gave Harry.  All of the chances that he has given himself to accept who Harry is, and like him despite all of the angst it has cause him, all of the frustration.  He starts typing before he can even think straight.  

_Fuck you Harry Styles.  You're fired._

  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note that there is an incident of violence in this chapter. Also an incident of non consensual kissing. Take care of you, and read with caution.

Moving on. Louis says that to himself a lot now. He has moved on from his old job, moved on from his old community, and he has moved on from Harry Styles. At least that’s what he has told himself. It actually hasn’t been that difficult to avoid Harry. They no longer work together, Louis has quickly developed a routine since the chaos of the wedding is through, and he doesn’t normally stray from his comfort zones. Luckily none of them seem to be places that Harry frequents.  And he has threatened Liam, Zayn, and even Niall to invite him anywhere that he knows that Harry may be.  It works for him. He is moving on.  

There’s only one tiny little problem with all of this moving on business. Harry kind of scratched an itch that Louis didn’t even know that he needed scratched.  He’s had sex before, and of course he’s had good sex before, but the way Harry made him feel in those few stolen moments just basically has been fucking him up for the weeks since the last time he has seen Harry.

He keeps trying to forget, then he reasons with himself that it wasn’t that big of a deal, then he has a quick wank to the memory, telling himself that this is absolutely the last time, and then he tries to forget for another day. And he has finally, after almost three weeks, come to the conclusion, that it is absolutely not working.

On the day before his friend Nick is supposed to show up for a long overdue visit, he sends him a text. 

_ Bring your pulling jeans, we’re going out _

Nick simply responds with a string of emojis that look kind of like a weird fruit orgy. Then because he’s Nick immediately sends another.

**_Every pair of my jeans are pulling jeans._ **

It’s a nice club, not too crowded. Probably because it’s a Tuesday night, and there isn’t really anything else exciting going on. But this is when Nick is visiting, so this is when they come. The place isn’t dead, there’s just lots of room to roam, and no line at the bar. Tuesday night clubbing might not be so bad after all.

“So what’s the gameplan babe?” Nick speaks into his ear in order to be heard. Louis doesn’t really respond, because he doesn’t have one. He just looks at Nick with a pleading look. It must work because although Nick rolls his eyes, he leans in close again.

“Ok, so what do you want? Quick shag? New boyfriend? Want to find me a guy, and watch from the corner of the room?” Louis recoils at this, and gives Nick a disgusted look.

“Ugh, what is wrong with you?” Nick merely laughs, and moves further into the space. They are nearly at the bar, taking their chance to get a good look at everyone around. Louis sees a few prospects, but he’s not committing yet.  “But I'm looking for a shag.” He tags on. Nick nods, and starts scanning around him again.

“Let’s find a booth. We can decide then.” Louis always feels weird in these situations. It’s like they are hunting rare game on an African safari, but he’s come to accept that it’s not his game.  He’s just playing it.

They get settled with their drinks, and start gossiping about the people around them. They are being checked out as well, of course, and when a dark haired man with blue eyes, and a leather jacket looks Louis’ way for the third time, Nick makes himself scarce so that Louis can invite the guy to sit.  

“Hi.” The man says. His voice is soft, but masculine.  His accent sounds posh. Louis swallows his nerves, and extends a hand.  

“Hello, nice to meet you.” The man takes it, and gives him a firm handshake, almost business like, and sits near him. “I’m Louis.”

The man nods, and smiles. “Jacob.” He says simply. Louis nods as well, feeling more awkward than he needs to.  

“I’ve never been here before.” Louis pushes on. He gives the club a sweep of his eyes. “It’s nice.”

“Oh yeah? Not from around here then?” Of course he isn’t from around here, he has a Yorkshire accent, and a strong one at that. Louis doesn’t say that. He simply nods.  

“Doncaster, moved for work.” Jacob already seems to be losing interest in Louis, and he is totally fine with that, because Louis lost interest the moment the man opened his mouth, if he’s being honest with himself.  

But suddenly instead of moving away, and making his excuses, Jacob moves in closer. “You have beautiful eyes.” He says in what Louis assumes is his smooth voice. Louis blushes, but probably not for the reasons that Jacob thinks.  

“Um, thanks.” He doesn’t return the compliment. “I think I’ll go find my friend now. He moves to slip out of the booth, but a hand catches his wrist.  

“I couldn’t stop staring at them. Even from across the room in  this shitty lighting. Captivating.” The hand never moves from Louis’ wrist, and in an effort not to make a scene, Louis decides to try communication.

“Thank you. I appreciate the compliment, but I am going to go find my friend now. Maybe we will see you around.” Louis looks straight in his eyes to make sure that the man has heard him, and moves to stand once again. The tugging brings him back into the booth however.  

“You invited me over here, and you are just going to leave me.” He fake pouts, but he doesn’t look upset at all.  

Louis tugs his arm away only to have Jacob move it to his thigh. Louis is officially done. He quickly looks around in search for Nick, who of course is nowhere in sight, and turns to Jacob to tell him to get his hands off. Then he’s being kissed. It’s hard, and gross, and Jacob is trying to force his tongue into Louis’ mouth. Louis can smell and taste nothing but alcohol, and as quickly as it starts, he shoves Jacob’s chest forcefully.  

It causes the man to smash his back against the cushioned wall at the back of the booth. Louis quickly stands, and moves towards the bar so that he can be amongst people, but he doesn’t move fast enough because before he gets there, Jacob rounds on him, and stops him. Louis is expecting a bollocking, and he comes fully equipped to tell people off.  What he doesn’t expect is a punch to the right side of his face.  

Everything goes starry, and he’s on the ground. He doesn’t remember getting there, but he hears shouts, and commotion all around him. There’s suddenly hands on him again, and he instinctively fights it until he sees that it’s Nick, and he’s trying to help Louis to his feet.

“What the fuck babe. I was only gone for a moment.” Nick hugs him, and pulls back to look at his face, wincing.  “Didn’t take you for the fighting type.”

“He hit me.” Louis says, which is entirely unhelpful, but it’s the only thing Louis can think about--  _ He hit me. He hit me He hit me.   _

“They kicked him out. But I got his name if you want to call the police.” Nick says as he rubs small circles on his back.  Louis can’t even process that. He just needs to get out of this place.

“Let’s just go.” Louis replies, a little defeated, still dazed. “I need a drink.” The irony of him saying this while he’s standing in a club doesn’t escape him. Just then he’s approached by a man in a suit.

“Hello Mr. Tomlinson. My name is Stanley Bishop. I just wanted to let you know that we are honoured that you would join us in this establishment, and it is our deepest regrets that this unfortunate incident has happened. That man is banned from this place of business for life, and we would like to offer you incentive to return when you are ready for an evening out once again.”  The man is visibly sweating, and wringing his hands nervously. Louis tries to offer him a weak smile, but it hurts too much. Nick however is less accommodating.

“Excuse me  _ sir _ ,” Nick’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. “ But bribery is not going to excuse you from the deplorable way my friend has been treated. If there is anything that we need from you, we will fetch you. Until then let us through so I can get some ice, and a bit of peace for him.” The man nods, and immediately leaves Louis’ direct line of sight, although he suspects that he hasn’t gone too far away. It doesn’t matter though, because Louis is out of here.  

 

**

 

Moving on, Harry is moving on. He isn’t too proud a person to admit that Louis’ rejection stung. That moment at the wedding,  _ His mother's wedding,  _ Harry thinks with a chill running down his spine, was everything that Harry had imagined it would be. Louis was so willing, and just took what Harry wanted to offer.  But that didn't seem to change anything as he looked  into Louis’ eyes, all Harry could see was disappointment.  

At least now he knows. Even if he can't have Louis now, he won't have to wonder what his skin tastes like, or the look of passion on his face while Harry is inside him. He just has to now convince himself that it was enough.

He thinks he's doing an alright job of it as well. His main focus has always been his career. He just throws himself into his next client, and tells himself that Louis Tomlinson isn't the be all, end all of beautiful faces, and beautiful bodies. He can most definitely move on.

Or at least that's what he thought until he saw the Daily Mail Article pop up in his news feed.

 

**_Louis Tomlinson Fighting in a Club_ **

 

**_Family worried as he spirals out of control_ **

 

He ignore that attention grabbing headline, and focuses on the hq picture of Louis walking down the street. He's wearing the aviators that Harry had chosen for him, and while they cover a large portion of his face,the do not fully cover the purple bruise on his right cheek. 

Harry sees red. He is instantly filled with this need to yell, scream, punch. How did this happen?  Who did this to Louis? And why in the hell does he care?

Harry calls Zayn. It's the only thing he can think to do. He's sure as hell not calling Louis.  

“Was Louis in a fight?” He tries to sound calm, detached. He fails.

“What?” Zayn responds. Harry huffs out a frustrated breath.

“The article, The Daily Mail…. Louis Tomlinson?” he tries when Zayn still doesn't respond. Not in the way Harry would appreciate anyway.

“Oh, yeah. Well, not exactly fighting. But yeah. It was almost a week ago. I'm surprised you are just seeing it now.” Zayn sounds calm. Way too calm. Why is he not freaking out, like Harry is right now?

“What do you mean not exactly?” Harry can feel all of the cool leaving his body, as he voice squeaks over the words.

“It's not a big deal. Why do you even care?” Zayn is testing him Harry's patience.

“Can we just pretend that I care, and you don't ask, for just a second and instead answer my questions?” Harry can  _ hear _ Zayn smirking from the other end of the line.

“Fine, Louis went out with a friend. Nick, I think his name is, and tried to pull, but got a poke in the mouth instead.”

“He put the moves on a guy, and got punched for it?” Harry doesn't believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. Harry can't even picture Louis making a move on another man nor does he want to.

“No, no. The other way around.” Zayn replies. “Louis turned the guy down and got a black eye for his troubles.”

Harry sees red again. How dare this nameless shit? He realises that he's pacing, and running his hands through his hair.

“All right there mate?”  Zayn asks tentatively. “You're acting weirder than usual.”

“I…” He was going to say that he's fine, but he can't. “I don't know. I'll call you back.” He hangs up without waiting for a response, and sits down hard on his desk chair. He knows that he’s making a bad decision as soon as he picks his phone up again, and selects Louis’ number. His leg starts to bounce as he listens to the rings. It surprises him when it goes to voicemail, although deep down, he knows that it shouldn’t.  

 

“Oh, yeah. Hello, it’s Harry….um Styles. Yeah. I just saw the article. I saw your face.  I just…” Harry can feel himself getting worked up again, and he can’t seem to be able do anything about it. “God Louis, that was so stupid. How could you have let that happen to you? What if you weren’t in the club, what if you were alone? Imagine what could’ve happened? Why didn’t you have security with you? Where was that asshat that you call a friend? Why wasn’t anyone there for you? Jesus.  It looks like it hurts. Just, I don’t know, try to be more careful or something. Yeah, okay, bye.” 

That didn’t go at all how Harry hoped it would. He meant to check in, make sure Louis was okay, maybe offer some comfort. Not scold him for being negligent with his own life. The realization that Louis is going to listen to that nonsense washes over him in a wave of guilt, and humiliation. Harry doesn’t think that he could feel like more of an idiot if he tried.

  
Zayn comes by a few hours later, obviously concerned for his friend’s mental health. He brings with him two bottles of good wine that they drink in relative silence. Zayn’s good at that, comfortable silence. He does like to give advice though, even when it’s not asked for.

“You could try to call him.” Zayn says out of nowhere. They are watching some cooking competition on tv, pretending Harry isn’t having some sort of identity crisis (It’s not working).

“I called him.” Harry replies. Not giving away anything he doesn’t have to.

“Oh, how did it go?” If Harry didn’t know Zayn as well as he does, he would not have detected the sarcasm in the question.

“Swell, I told off his voice message for being careless with his life. I’m sure he’s getting a right laugh at that.” Zayn just nods, face solum.

“Probably wasn’t your best move if you are trying to get back in.” Zayn replies.

“Get back in where?” Harry demands. He’s thrown off guard by Zayn’s off handed comment.

“Get back together with Louis. That’s what this is about isn’t it?” Zayn finally turns to Harry, and Harry realises with horror that Zayn is being serious.

“I was never  _ with _ Louis. We shagged once, that’s it.” Harry insists, very much needing Zayn to fully understand this. Zayn continues to look confused.  

“Then why are you all bent out of shape?”

Harry throws himself back into the folds of the couch again, huffing in frustration. “I don’t know. Fuck. I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should figure it out.” Zayn says with a shrug of the shoulders. Zayn is so helpful. Not. Fucker.

  
  


It’s late when Zayn leaves, and Harry is really light headed from drinking a bottle of wine by himself, so he tosses his clothes, and falls into a comatose sleep. Which makes it all the more alarming when he’s suddenly woken by a furious banging on his door. He dazedly gets up, walks towards the noise, and gets a look in the peephole to discover that it’s Louis, and he looks furious. The banging hasn’t let up since Harry opened his eyes. Lord knows how long he was doing it before Harry even noticed. He opens the door, and when the banging stops, the yelling starts. 

“How very dare you!” Louis erupts at the sight of Harry. Harry feels really incapable of doing anything but standing there. He’s still semi-drunk and half asleep. “How very fucking dare you accuse me of doing something wrong, of doing something to deserve getting punched in the face!” When Louis says it, Harry is suddenly brought into the present, seeing for the first time the faint colour still tainting Louis’ naturally bronzed complexion. Harry has to do everything in his power to stop himself from bringing a hand up to caress it.  “And what is it to you anyway?” Louis continues as though Harry isn’t having the war of his life raging inside himself.  “Why the fuck would you care what I did with my body? You got what you wanted from me. Why don’t you leave me the hell alone?”

“Do you want to come in?” Harry finally speaks, his voice is gruff from sleep, but he thinks maybe it’s from seeing Louis too. The thought alone is scary.

“No, I don’t bloody want to come in. I didn’t want to come here at all, but apparently you are opposed to answering your phone, so I thought I would make sure you got the message in person.” Louis takes a breath. Harry could wish all he wants that Louis is done, but he knows that it’s not over. He’s right. “I AM NOT YOUR PROPERTY, I AM NOT

ANYONE’S PROPERTY. NO ONE IS YOUR PROPERTY.” He yells.  Harry is sure every neighbor in his building heard it. “If I ever hear tell of you shaming a person for being assaulted again, I will personally come here, and kick you ass. Then I will blast on every form of social media that I can get my hands on what a disgusting human being you are. Do you got that?” 

Harry can feel his heart breaking. His chest hurts, he can’t breath. Louis thinks that Harry blames him. He thinks that Harry wants to control him. He can’t even see that Harry was just worried, concerned. Louis is waiting for an answer. A confirmation that Harry understands. That he understands that he’s as disgusting as Louis is saying he is. “Can I at least explai-”

“No.” Louis yells again. Harry flinches back. He just nods his head, not able to look Louis in the eye, and closes the door again when Louis leaves, stomping his feet in furry.

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

“You have to stop moping.” Niall states as he follows Harry from rack to rack.  

Harry doesn’t slow down, just mutters. “I’m not moping.”

Niall doesn’t stop either, lightly flicking through the masses of clothes that Harry is sorting. “Well, brooding then.”  This does make Harry stop, he turns to Niall, and glares.

“I’m not brooding! Or moping, or sulking, or whining, or any of the adjectives you have used to describe me in the last week.  I am working. I’m being good at my job, since that seems the be the only thing in my life that I don’t muck up.” He stares at Niall for a moment, realising what he had just said, and turns back to the clothes. Niall sighs behind him.

“You didn’t muck anything up Harry. You pissed Louis off. Name one time you have been in the presence of Louis Tomlinson, and hadn’t pissed him off. It’s kind of how you two communicate innit?”

Niall is right, of course. Being angry at Harry seems to be Louis’ default mode, but this time was different. The things he said, the way that Louis made him feel. It hurt in a way it never had.  And Harry hasn’t heard of him since. Not in person, not through friends, not even in those God forsaken tabloids.  

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He says instead, eliciting another heavy sigh from Niall.

“Fine, just tell me what we are doing then. Do we hate him? Am I to never speak to him again?  I need the game plan here H. Because when it comes down to it, you were my friend first, and no matter what bullshit you are telling me, and everyone else, this guy really got under your skin, and even hearing his name made your face fall faster than when Jude Law made that comment about your hair.” Harry shoots Niall a dirty look because Harry so did not make a face when Jude Law asked him if he was due for a cut. And he doesn’t make a face when Louis’ name is brought up either.  He is the picture of stoicism. He does not make faces. “There’s the face.” Niall says, very unhelpfully. Harry looks at the ceiling, takes a deep breath, and counts to ten.  

“Fine, you want to talk about this so damned bad, let’s talk.” He finally agrees. To Niall’s credit he doesn’t jump on the chance to gossip like Harry knows that he’s dying to. He simply nods, and keeps quiet until Harry begins talking. “Uh, okay. Well, he got hurt.” Harry begins, then shakes his head. “No, he...we....” Harry stutters. He’s finding it incredibly difficult to tell Niall all of this, because it’s not just facts. It’s not just things that have happened. It’s his feelings, and Harry just really doesn’t deal with those all that well.

“Alright.” Niall says encouragingly. His voice is calm, and he is smiling tentatively, which is the only thing that gives away his excitement to hear this piece of news.

“The day of his mother’s wedding. In the dressing room. We...um...had sex.” Niall’s eyebrows shoot up, but he remains blessedly silent. “It was...incredible. But immediately afterward, he said that it was a mistake. He couldn’t even look me in the eye.” Harry scratches the back of his neck, and tries hard to ignore the pain in his stomach. “I left, I didn’t know what else to do. I only went because.” He couldn’t say it out loud. He couldn’t say that he only went for Louis, because if he said it, then it meant it was true, and he was in way deeper than he had ever let himself believe. “I wanted to see him in the suit I chose for him.” He concludes. He can tell by the look on Niall’s face, that he doesn’t believe Harry.  Harry doesn’t even care. “He texted me...he fired me.” Harry chuckles at this because he remembers seeing those words on the screen.  He couldn’t believe that Louis thought that firing him was what would hurt Harry. “And we hadn’t spoken since.” He looks towards Niall who is processing the information, and taking it quite well considering he was ready to cut Louis from his life completely moments ago.

“Until…?” Niall presses, knowing there is more to the story. Harry just nods.

“Until the night he showed up at my flat screaming at me like a madman.”

“What the fuck?” Niall asks, incredulous. “So now we are pissed?”

“No, we aren’t pissed. He….Louis, got hurt.  Did you know?”

“Yeah, tussle at a club. Saw the pics, sucks.” Niall says with sympathy, no stranger to a bruise here and there.

“Well, I wish I had acted more like you when I saw them, because I did something really uncalled for.”

“Oh God, here we go.” Niall mutters under his breath, but not enough that Harry can’t hear.

“I panicked. I just got so angry, and worried, and I called him.  It went to voicemail, but I left a message.”

“What did you say?” Niall sounds almost scared to ask.

“I told him that he needed to be more careful, and maybe a few other things…” Harry trails off, reliving the night in his head.

“Well, I’m sure whatever you said, and whatever he thought was just a misunderstanding right? Nothing that can’t be resolved over a pint?” Harry just shakes his head. The pain in his stomach getting bigger, the tightness in his chest clenching around his heart.

“He thinks that I want…” He can feel a sob at the back of his throat. “That I just want him as...p...p...property.  That I was trying to...shame him...for getting assaulted. He called me disgusting.”  Harry doesn’t realise that his eyes are closed, and clenched tightly, that his arms are crossed over his body, until Niall wraps his arms around him, and holds him close.

“Do you know what H? Fuck him, fuck him for thinking that about you. You don’t deserve to have anyone make you feel that way.” Niall’s voice is soothing, and Harry almost wants to believe him, but he can’t. He shakes his head, and gently pushes away from his grip.

“No, I don’t want that. He is right to think it, because I haven’t done anything to make him feel otherwise.” Niall looks distressed, and crosses his arms.

“Then what Harry? You can’t just walk around the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself. Are you going to move on from this guy, or are you going to do something?”

And that’s the million dollar question isn’t it? Because Harry has no idea what he wants. Which is the worst part of this. Louis was right, Harry did get what he wanted from him.  He had claimed Louis that night, and if this was any other man, any other situation, that would have been enough. But it’s glaringly obvious to anyone who has looked sideways at Harry for the last month that it wasn’t enough at all, and the time is coming for him to finally admit that, at least to himself.

“Harry…” Niall tries to pull him out of the trance he’s in.  “What do you want?”

Harry takes another breath, looks Niall dead in the eye, and says, “I want Louis.”

Just as the words leave Harry’s lips, Zayn walks into the room, a bundle of material under his arm. He brightens up when he sees Niall standing in front of him. “Hey bro, what are you doing around here?” Zayn asks, pulling niall in for a full hug. Niall hugs back, patting Zayn gently on the back.

“Trying to convince this wet blanket to go on a little holiday with me.” Niall points to Harry who is grateful that Niall is making light of the situation. Zayn has been giving him worried looks for days.

“He fucking needs it, let me tell you.” Zayn replies.

“I’m standing right here. You do not have to pretend that I’m not.” Harry creases his brow, and glares at them both.

“Listen babe, the silence was nice for the first few days.” Zayn deadpans. “But you clearly need to unwind, get a little fresh air, a change of scenery. Just go for a couple of days, get  drunk, make a few bad decisions.” Zayn is also skirting around the problem at hand, that problem being Louis. It’s starting to feel weird. But before Harry can retaliate, and defend himself, Niall steps in.

“You should come too Z! Make it a proper lads holiday! I was thinking Brazil. Lovely time of the year for it.” Zayn’s face falls a little at this.  Harry smirks.

“What’s the matter Zayn? Don’t want to unwind? Don’t want some fresh air?” Harry mocks him, although they all know it’s all in fun. Zayn just plain doesn’t like to travel. He’s a homebody, and that’s just the way it is.

“I have plans.” He mumbles, suddenly really focused on his work. Niall looks to Harry for confirmation.

“Boyfriend.” Harry shoots back, making a smile creep onto Zayn’s face, and a pink tinge to colour his ears.

“Bring him!” Niall shouts. Harry can already see Niall making an itinerary in his head, and he just can’t stop himself from being infected with that kind of enthusiasm. Maybe he does need a few days to get away from it all. He smiles, and not to be overly dramatic, but he's almost forgotten what it feels like.

“Come on Zayn. Take Li on a proper getaway. We will only pester you minimally, promise.” Zayn sighs heavily, and shakes his head.  

“I will agree to ask him. That’s it. He’s very busy you know.” Zayn stares at Harry when he says this, and just like that, the smile is gone. Liam is busy because he works really hard. For Louis. Well, he did manage to forget for a few moments anyway. “Sorry.” Zayn mutters, understanding what he had done.

“It’s alright, just ask. I’m sure he would love a few days.” Harry replies, his voice soft, and sad. He’s jolted out of it though because Niall is jumping with his mobile app opened to flight times.

“Lads holiday! Lads holiday!”

  
  
Harry smiles, as he stretches out on the plush sofa of the first class lounge. He’s not opposed to flying business, but Niall doesn’t know any different, and Harry loves to take the piss about it.

“Fuck off.” Is all Niall says, with a smile on his face, it’s all he ever says when Harry tells him he’s being too posh. It’s incredibly frustrating.

But he can’t really be arsed to care at the moment. He needs this time to reflect, and stop stewing over Louis for a few days. He sighs a little realising that he is once again making everything in his life about Louis. He can’t help it. Once the floodgates were opened, he couldn’t stop it if he tried.  But he promised himself that he would definitely wait until he got back to London before he did anything about it, and he will stick to his promise.

“Zayn just texted that they are on their way in.” Niall says beside him.

“Mmhhm.” Harry mumbles in response, immersed in a snapchat story unfolding before him. New indie fashion line that looks very promising. He’s trying to remember names, and faces.

“He kind of...has some news.” Niall continues on. He sounds almost apprehensive. Harry looks at him amused.

“What, him and Liam get engaged already?” He jokes. Niall doesn’t laugh.

“Oh God, did Liam break up with him?” Harry’s stomach drops. He knows how much Zayn likes Liam, it would crush him if it wasn’t working out. Niall just looks over his shoulder, and kind of head points, expression still unwavering. Harry turns to follow his gaze.  

Louis. Louis Fucking Tomlinson is standing in front of him, expression as grim as Niall’s. And as if Harry had any doubt about the odds that they would be in the same lounge at the same time, he’s walking with Zayn, and Liam. He feels Niall stand beside him.

“I’m going to go talk to him.” Niall says, a little too forcefully.  Before Harry can stop him, he’s walking towards Louis.  

Harry feels helpless sitting, and watching Niall speak to Louis. Their heads are tilted together, and there seems to be a lot of aggression on Niall’s end, and a lot of passiveness on Louis’. Finally Louis lays a hand on Niall’s shoulders, and speaks to him. Niall’s shoulders relaxes a little, and he starts nodding his head.  Niall pats Louis on the shoulder as well, and gives him a little pat on the cheek, and walks away.  Louis smiles back until he’s left standing alone again, face to face with Harry.  Harry gulps, and moves to stand, but a single finger pointed at him tells him to remain seated.  

Louis comes to him, and sits beside him, back rigid, and face the same. Harry doesn’t move, doesn’t speak for fear of scaring him off, or possibly breaking some sort of spell, and making him disappear. He dares not look anywhere but Louis’ eyes, but he can’t help but smell the fresh scent that brings him back to that afternoon in the dressing room. Those piercing eyes looked at him with a different kind of intensity. Harry fingers twitch with want to touch, and his heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but he remains frozen in his spot, almost unblinking, waiting for Louis to do something.

“Ok listen,” Louis begins. “This is not….not ideal.” His voice is stern, but clearly apologetic. Harry opens his mouth to speak, but the finger comes up again, and he closes it. “This isn’t my place.  This is your vacation, your friends, I know that. But this is a big deal to Liam. It’s a big step, and he’s nervous. Zayn and you two. He needed a person.” Harry continues to stare. Louis looks at him a little confused, but he moves on. “I’m the only person he has really. And trust me if there was anyone else, they would be here instead. But I’m needing you...I’m asking you if you could do me a favour, and just call a truce for a few days.” Louis pauses again, and looks at Harry expectantly. Harry, despite his need to say a million things to Louis, is absolutely speechless, and unable to even acknowledge him. Louis puffs out a frustrated breath. “Harry!”

“Yes, truce, yes.” Harry manages to fumble out of his mouth. Louis nods, a little uncertain.

“Okay. Truce. But if you say one word, one gesture, one thought that is anything but polite, and kind, It will be over. I’m not kidding Harry. I need this to go well for Liam, but I’m still really upset.” Harry nods again.

“I promise, Louis.” He tentatively sticks a hand between them for Louis to shake. Louis looks at it warily, before slotting his hand into Harry’s. It’s warm, and dry, and Harry wants to hold it forever, but he reluctantly releases him after a gentle squeeze. Harry’s optimistic that it seems to have made an affect on Louis as well, even if just a little one. Louis stands to move towards Liam again without another word, and Zayn almost immediately takes his place.

“I’m so sorry bro. I didn’t know anything about it until last minute. You will be interested to know that Liam and I have had our first fight.” Zayn mumbles, sounding sad, and annoyed at the same time.

“Don’t be mad at Liam. Louis explained. It’s fine, really.” Harry feels like he’s on some sort of high, where everything around him is floating. He almost wants to pinch himself to see if he could actually feel pain.

“Are you sure? It’s not going to be weird for you?” Zayn worries his lip, looking anxiously at Harry.  Harry understands why, considering how he’s been acting over the last few weeks. But he simply smiles.

“Zayn, I feel like I’ve just won the lottery.” He can’t wipe the smile off of his face.

  
The flight is long, and they all agree to try to sleep through most of it, but that doesn’t mean that they are anywhere near well rested when they land, and are transported to their resort. Harry is thankful when he collapses on his bed. Herefused to share a suit with Niall. Lads holiday be damned, he needs his peace every once in awhile. He shoots a quick text to Niall that he’s taking a nap, and doesn’t remember much else afterwards. 

When he wakes up it’s because there’s a pounding on his door, and a slight ache in his bones.  He takes a moment to remember where he is, and why someone is trying to bust through his hotel room door. “Niall.” He mutters to himself. He looks at his phone, and realises that he’s actually been asleep for about five hours. There are also several texts from Niall, and Zayn. The last one from Niall telling him that if he doesn’t get his ass downstairs to the pool, Niall is going to come up after him. He sighs, and shakes his head as he heads for the door to let Niall inside, but when he opens it, there is Louis. Alone, standing anxiously at Harry’s door. Harry takes an unconscious step back, and Louis looks at him guiltily.

“Hello.” Louis greets him. His voice is formal, but uncertain.  

“Hi.” Harry responds in a voice far too soft, and far too fond. “I kind of thought you were Niall.” Louis looks at his feet, and nods.

“Yeah, I uh. Can I come in for a second?” Louis asks, though he sounds as if that is the last thing that he wants to do. Harry immediately widens the door for Louis to walk through comfortably. But he finds it hard to move from his place near the door, even when Louis sits on a loveseat on the other end of the room. He perches like a bird, ready to flee at the first sign of danger. Harry can’t tell if he’s sad, or excited that he is that danger to Louis.

He finally drags himself to a chair closer to Louis, and faces him, with his hands on his knees, because he has no idea what to do with himself. “What’s up?”

“I just want to be sure that you are not going to spend your weekend up here alone.” Louis says a little bolder. Harry’s immediate thought is that Louis is offering to keep him company, but he knows that it would be too good to be true. “I want you to know that I can keep myself scarce. I brought work. You won’t even notice me here.” Harry creases his brow in confusion.

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, we aren’t on the best of terms, and this was your get away. I am the one intruding. I can bow out. It’s okay.” Louis explains, looking at Harry in earnest.

“I told you that I am fine with you being here.” Harry responds. More than fine, he think. Ecstatic more like. But he doesn’t say that out loud. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“I thought when you didn’t come down that you were avoiding me.” Louis makes a little noise in the back of his throat that sound like a chuckle. “Pretty self centered of me.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I was truly just asleep. You actually woke me up. I’m not avoiding anything, or anyone. I said that we would get along this weekend. I meant it. I mean it now. I have no problem with you being here Louis.” Harry adds a little hope to his voice.  A little hope that maybe Louis will get the message.  That he will see how much Harry’s feeling have changed.

“The things I said to you.They weren’t nice.” Louis scrunches his nose in distaste. “Not that you didn’t deserve them, because you did, and I would say them all over again, but they weren't nice.  I wouldn’t blame you….” He trails off, a look of faraway concentration plain on his face. Louis can’t hide anything.  Another reason for Harry to like him so much.

“I did deserve it and I said things too. But I want you to know, that’s not me. I am not going to say something corny like I’ve changed, but I am going to make you a promise.” Louis looks uncertain, but nods. “I will never make you feel that way again. And I am truly sorry that I made you feel even for a moment that what happened to you was your fault. I am so sorry.” Harry can feel his emotions spill into his voice. Louis’ shoulders slump for a moment before he stands, composure regained.

“That’s...thank you. I, uh, I need to get back to the group.” His voice speeds up, his movements become jerky. He turns to Harry, and stills just for a moment. Harry can feel his scrutinizing eyes on him, but he waits for Louis to make a move. “This doesn’t change everything that happened.” He finally says.

“I know.” Harry responds.

Louis nods again, and walks towards the door.  “I’ll tell the lads that you will be down soon.” And he walks out again without another look.

  
Sure, Harry had planned on staying drunk this entire holiday, sure the rest of the boys had been fully on board with that idea. But now Louis is here, and he has agreed to spend time with Harry, and Harry just cannot pass that up. When Harry finally makes his way down to the pool where the rest of his friends are lounging, he tries his luck.

“I think we should do something tomorrow.” He addresses the crowd. Predictably Zayn groans, and Niall perks up. Neither Liam, or Louis say anything, and just look around at the others.

“I thought this was going to be a drink your sorrows trip.” Niall says before he remembers that the cause of Harry’s sorrows is sitting directly beside him. He blushes, and shuts up. Louis looks at him quizzically, but doesn’t ask questions.  

“We should do something really touristy. It could be fun.” Harry avoids eye contacts with Louis at all cost, but he can feel his eyes on him.  

“You don’t have to convince me mate. I’m always up for an adventure. Anything in mind?”

Harry frowns.  “No, I actually don’t. It was a spur of the moment idea.” Niall snorts, and leans back in his chair.  

“Well, let me know, I’ve been to every tourist trap in this city. I’m not fussy.” Harry rolls his eyes at Niall’s refusal to help, and looks at Zayn pleadingly. Zayn still has his nose scrunched up in distaste at the idea of leaving the compound.  And Liam is looking like he’s struggling between wanting to go, and wanting to stay loyal to Zayn, so no help there.  

“Well, I guess I could google.” He finally mutters. He pulls out his phone, and opens his google app just as Louis clears his throat.

“I wouldn't mind seeing Christ The Redeemer.” He says, hesitant. Harry looks towards him, and Louis is looking back. Uncertainty in his eyes. Harry puts his mobile back down, and smiles.

“Sounds great. What does everyone think?” He asks the crowd, but doesn't take his eyes off Louis.

“Sounds good to me!” Niall chimes in, not even bothering to take the straw from his drink out if his mouth. Zayn mumbles something, and Harry shifts his eyes just enough to get a glimpse of Liam’s tongue down his throat. Harry counts them in as well.

“Ok! Well, I'll plan everything. Don't you worry bout a thing. We'll have a great time.” He's once again addressing everyone, but has his eyes on only one person. That person smiles, and emits a soft giggle. Harry thinks that he's never seen anything more beautiful.

  
  


A sure way to know that Louis has totally gotten to Harry is the next morning when he shows up at the car in a slightly wrinkled t shirt, jean shorts, and a headband holding back his fringe, and all Harry can think about is how good he looks. His skin is already browning even more than usual in the tropical sun, and his eyes show that he’s had a few good nights sleep. Not working looks good on him, and Harry is going to have to work hard for the rest of the day to just not throw him over his shoulder, and run back into his hotel room. 

He instead smiles at Louis as warmly as he can, trying to make him feel welcome, and comfortable, and waits for the rest of them to wander out into the bright, clear day.

“Wow.” Harry hears as Louis steps up beside him. He is standing at the ledge at the base of the statue, and the view is absolutely incredible. Harry nods in agreement.

“I know.” He replies. “The colours are incredible. The pallette is inspiring.”

“Still have your work brain on?” Louis asks. It sounds like he’s trying to tease, maybe even flirt, but Harry isn’t confident that he knows anymore.

“Always.” He responds simply.

“Listen, I just wanted to thank you.” Louis says a little cautiously. Harry looks at him, but he’s still staring down into the valley below.

“What for?”

“For not being weird about this whole weekend. For not being angry.” Louis almost whispers.

“I told you Louis-” Harry starts to protest, but is cut off.

“I know what you said. But my memory isn’t all that short. We don’t get along. It is what it is.” Louis shrugs, looking back down at the scenery.

“It isn’t though. That’s not what it is.” Harry looks at him, silently willing Louis to look at him again, have his attention focused on him once more. He’s granted his wish.

“No? What is it then?” Louis asks, sounding actually curious. It’s Harry’s turn to look away.

“I wish I knew.”

Louis shifts beside him, not away, just a small shuffle of his feet. Like they can’t stay in one place any longer. “How about we get to that drinking that you all keep talking about?” He says a little louder, the bubble broken, and walks away from the ledge. Harry swallows hard, and follows.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little warning for drunk sex. If that makes you uncomfortable, read with care please. Enjoy!

The afternoon of drinking, while at first seemed like a wonderful idea, is proving to be a test of Harry's good intentions. The five of them are sitting around a quiet pool, dipping their feet  occasionally, but steadily getting more and more giddy, and giggly. 

Louis, who seemed once like he was trying his hardest to stay quiet, and in the background is absolutely shining. His voice is more boisterous, and he's taken to telling embarrassing childhood stories about Liam. Harry can't take his eyes off of Louis’ flushed cheeks, and sparkling eyes. When he laughs, his whole body reacts, hands resting on his chest, knees raised off the floor, eyes crinkling shut.

His lips are wet from the cold beer in his hand, and Harry wants nothing more than to taste them. He wants to be the cause of that laugh. He wants to make sounds come from those lips that are just for him.

“Harry!” Hearing his name jolts him out of his reverie. He looks around and sees that everyone is staring at him. Including Louis.  But it was Niall who yelled his name.

“Sorry.” He replies because he couldn't even guess what they were talking about.  

“Y”alright there?” Zayn asks. Harry doesn't miss his eyes slipping for a second over to Louis.

“Yeah, I'm good.” He smiles lazily. “Just tired. Might go for a nap before dinner.”  He stands and looks around at everyone. Niall slumps back in his lounge chair.

“I might close my eyes right here.” He slurs.

Harry pats his shoulder, and gives everyone a wave. Niall already looks well on his way to sleep, Liam and Zayn are chatting quietly on the lounge chair that they are sharing. Louis is staring right back at him.

He collapses into his bed with a thud and a moan. He doesn't bother undressing, or actually properly getting into bed, knowing that sleep probably isn't actually in the cards. He just needed to get away from Louis. No, not Louis,  _ temptation _ . He can't be a gentleman and convince Louis that he isn't a total creep while ogling the way he slides the entire end of the beer bottle in his mouth before he pulls a drink from it.

“Fuck” He moans out loud. He's going to need to get this out of his system. They have another two nights together. He rolls over on the bed,one hand behind his head, and one sliding down towards the button of his tight black jeans. He's just about ready to rid himself of the article of clothing when there's a light tap at the door.

“Not now Niall!” He calls out, frustrated at the interruption.

“Not Niall.” Louis’ high rasp floats through the door, and in the state that Harry is in, right to his dick.

He leaps off the bed, swearing under his breath. He really would rather Louis not see him like this. Or maybe he would. He can't think straight.

“Harry?” Louis calls again, not knowing about the turmoil going on through the other side of the door.

Harry opens it just an inch, to see Louis standing watching him through the crack.

“Hi.” Louis breathes out, he looks unsure. “Are you ok?” He asks, seemingly concerned.

“I'm fine. Why do you ask?”

“You're acting weirder than usual.” Louis watches him close. The door still barring his view from most of Harry's figure.

“Says the man who is once again at my door. This seems to be a thing for us.” Harry attempts to be cheeky, but his head is still fuzzy from all of the drinking.

“You're trying really hard not to offend me in any way.” Louis points out.

“I said that I wouldn't.” Harry replies, opening the door a little further.

“I didn't say that you couldn't flirt with me.” Louis says. Harry knows that his mouth is opened wide. But he can't seem to close it.

“You're drunk.” Is all he seems to be able to say. Which makes Louis laugh out loud.

“Obviously, but also, you're dead sexy, and I know what it feels like to have you inside me. It's incredibly distracting.”

Harry opens the door,  forgetting about his erection, and drags Louis into the room. “You're in public you know.” He scolds, which just makes Louis giggle. He looks Harry up and down just once before he slides in front of him, cupping his bulge.

“Been thinking of me too?” Louis gives Harry a squeeze, and he whimpers.

“You'll regret this in the morning.” He tries one last attempt, resolve failing by the second.

“No more than the last time.” Louis replies, mouth on Harry's. And ouch. He's not trying to make Harry feel any better about this clearly, but he tastes sweet. Not like the beer he'd been drinking, but something that is just Louis. And it's a taste that he's been craving since the last time he's had it. He knows he will end up the villain in this once again, but God help him if he can stop himself now.

Louis digs a hip into his groin, grinding down, and Harry groans, lifting Louis by the thighs so that Louis’ legs are wrapped around his waist.  

“I saw the way you were looking at me.” Louis says when he pulls back for a breath.

“Yeah.”

“You looked like you wanted to eat me. You looked like you wanted to own me.” Harry gulps, looking at him probably just how Louis described. “I told you that you don't own me.”

“I know.” Harry says, voice gruff.

“Ignore that today alright?” Louis whispers in his ear, and kisses him again.

Harry's mind goes white static for all of about five seconds before he deposits Louis on the bed, and crawls on top of him. “You’re going to feel this tomorrow.” He growls into Louis’ ear.

“I’m counting on it.” Louis whispers before he raises his arms above his head, signalling Harry to take the lead. Harry kisses him long and hard one last time before he grabs Louis’ loose shirt, and lifts it above his head. He then flips Louis onto his stomach, and rips his shorts and underwear off in one movement. He stands for a moment at the end of the bed, admiring the view below him. Louis is stretched out, arms above him. His smooth skin just an island of curves, and angles deposited in the middle of the big bed. Louis finally looks back toward him, lust already glazing over his eyes.

“Bad.” Harry says under his breath. “So, so bad.” Louis’ response to this is to spread his legs further, giving Harry a perfect slot to fit between, so he does, rubbing his hands up each thigh as he goes, finally stopping at the sudden curve of Louis’ ass. He didn’t get this view the last time, but he doesn’t expect he will forget it any time soon.

He takes a cheek in each hand, spreading him wide open, revealing a tight pink hole calling his name, Harry just wants to dive right into it, but he doesn’t imagine Louis would appreciate that as much as he would. He rubs the hole dry with his thumb anyhow, just to see Louis react. He does in the most beautiful way, jumping, and pushing against him, eager for more. He licks a finger, and just barely penetrates him, seeing how far he could go. Louis clenches around him, letting out a little whimper, so he pulls out, giving his cheeks another squeeze.

“Stay” He says to Louis as he gets up from the bed, shucking his own clothes, and rushing to his bag for lube, and condoms. He silently thanks Niall for making him pack them, otherwise this little meeting would end a lot different. When he gets back to the bed Louis is squirming, still face down, trying to get some friction. Harry climbs back on top of him, securing his legs between his own thighs. It makes Louis moan filthily, and Harry rewards him with a soft bite on the back of the neck. “I want you to keep still.” He says into Louis’ ear, mostly just to get a rise from him. It works, and Louis actually starts to squirm even more than he had been. “That’s not being very good. You’re mine tonight right? What I say goes. If you can’t hold still, I might have to make you.”

“Make me.” Louis pleads, his voice broken with need, it makes Harry impossibly hard just to hear the desperation in his voice. Harry curses under his breath as he brings both of Louis’ hands behind his back, securing them with one hand. He presses them into Louis’ lower back, and Louis stills immediately. Harry opens the bottle of lube, and pours it directly onto Louis’ hole. It’s cold, and makes him jump a little, but Harry just pushes him back down into the mattress, and he groans in pleasure. He starts slow with one finger. He can see every twitch, every spasm from this angle, and it just makes him impatient to be inside Louis. Louis seems to feel the same way because his moans turn to whimpers, which turn to pleas.

“Fuck me, please Harry, want it now.” He repeats every few seconds, pushing up to meet Harry’s fingers with every thrust, despite Harry holding him tight. Harry has enough when he hits Louis’ prostate, causing tears to spring to his eyes, and his mouth to open. It is the most incredible thing Harry has ever seen, and Harry wants to see that face as he orgasms, which won’t be long by the way they are going.

He rolls a condom on as quickly as possible, not letting go of the hands beneath him, and pushes himself inside Louis, still encompassing his legs. Louis lets out a shout, and Harry slows. He doesn’t know if it’s a good shout or a bad one.

“If you want me to stop, say cashmere.” Louis nods, eyes squeezed shut. He doesn’t say the word though, and Harry keeps going, not slowing down, not letting up. Louis whimpers, and wiggles under him, but doesn’t say the word. Harry pounds down, and Louis curses, and swears, but he doesn’t say the word.  

He’s close, and he knows that Louis is too, he’s torn between not ever wanting it to be over, and wanting the sweet release that his body is aching for. He leans back, and pulls Louis’ hips up with him, reaching around to grasp Louis’ rock hard erection. Louis hisses, but thrusts into the contact, chasing the pleasure.  

“Ready to come Lou?” Louis squeezes his eyes shut, so Harry asks again. “Gonna be good, and come for me?” He doesn't relent on his pounding, but Louis lets out a broken  _ yes  _ before he's spilling into Harry's hand. “Fuck, yes.” Harry grits out before he's fucking Louis through his orgasm, and towards his own. It doesn't take long before the familiar wave takes him, and he's burying deep inside Louis, and releasing himself. He digs hard into Louis’ hips, trying to get impossibly closer. He finally releases Louis from his grip before he rolls onto his side, trying to catch his breath.

To Harry's surprise, Louis stands up almost immediately, albeit slow, and careful. “What are you doing?”  He asks. Sounding incredulous, instead of curious.

“Not falling asleep here.” Louis slurs. He doesn't know if it's from the alcohol, or the sex. “Not waking up here.” He carefully pulls on his pants, and jean shorts, holding his shirt and shoes in his hand before he walks out without another word.

Harry is left with Louis’ come still sticky on his hand, and sweat cooling on his face. “Bad, stupid, fuck.” He says out loud before he makes his way to the bathroom. He ignores the voice  in the back of his head that is telling him it was totally worth it.

He somehow makes it to dinner on time, and even more surprisingly, he isn’t the last one to show up. “Where’s Louis?” He asks the crowd sitting around the big table. Niall simply raises an eyebrow at him. He wills the flush on his cheeks away as Liam speaks up.

“Said he wasn’t going to make it. I asked if he was okay, but he just said he had a headache.” Liam shrugs it off, and goes back to showering all of his attention onto Zayn.

“Maybe someone should go check on him.” He suggests, a little concerned for Louis’ state of mind more than anything else. Niall snorts beside him. Harry shoots him daggers.

“You volunteering Hazza?” Niall asks. Harry cringes at the thought.

“Maybe after dinner.”

  
  


“I wanna go clubbing!” Niall announces a few hours later. Apparently the nap did him wonders, he’s dancing from one foot to the other, trying to hype Harry up for a night on the town. Harry on the other hand, was hoping to once again patch up a few tears in his relationship with Louis. He’s not exactly sure how he is going to do that, but he’s certainly not leaving things the way they are now. His hesitation must be showing on his face, because Niall gets his stubborn face on and takes Harry by the arm. “One night isn’t going to change anything.” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Harry pouts, crossing his arms.

“Please, like I'm blind. Louis practically chased after you earlier today, then you came to dinner looking like you’ve never been fucked so good, and Louis didn’t even come down at all.” He rolls his eyes for good measure. “So whether you two are loved up now, or you’ve found yet another reason to hate each other, it can wait until tomorrow.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll go.” He concedes. “Let me go change at least.”

“I’m giving you half an hour, and I’ll come up, don’t think I won’t.” Niall threatens him, and Harry knows full well that he’s good for his promises. But he’s not going anywhere until he talks to Louis first, so he rushes to find his room number before Niall catches on to him.

He raps softly on the door to Louis’ room a few short minutes later. He’s greeted with silence, but he is pretty sure that Louis is in there, he’s quite sure that he’s hoping that Louis didn’t actually leave the resort altogether if he’s being honest. He knocks again, and hears a soft “who is it?”

“It’s me.” Harry says to the door. Silence again. He waits a few seconds, then knocks again.

“Not the time Harry.” Louis replies, a little more anguished. Harry just keeps knocking. Suddenly the door flies open, revealing a very agitated man on the other side. Louis simply stares at him with a sour look on his face, leaving Harry completely speechless for a moment. He doesn’t know what he expected when he came to the door, especially after how they left one another earlier in the day, but it wasn’t this. He sighs sadly.

“So, regretting it already?” he asks. Louis’ eyes get even more steely than they were, which Harry didn’t think was even possible.

“Yup.” He says, no further explanation.

“I’m going out with Niall tonight. Are you going to be here when I get back?” The look on Louis’ face tell Harry that he’s considered leaving, and Harry just really doesn’t want that. “Please don’t go. Just, please.” Louis pauses for a second, not moving his expression at all, then suddenly his shoulder sag, and he sighs.

“I’m not leaving, just going to spend the rest of the night wallowing in self hate.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry says, for lack of anything better to say.

“Not your fault.” He says, seeming to want to end the conversation. Harry takes a step back.

“Well, you have my number if you want to talk. And for what it’s worth, I have no regrets.” Louis’ lip tips up in a tiny smile at that, but says nothing before he closes the door. He hasn’t won the war yet, but it’s a tiny victory.

  
The club is fun, the music is good, and the drinks are delicious. But all that Harry can think about is what he left at the hotel, who he left at the hotel. He can't get the idea out of his head that if he hadn't left the hotel tonight, he could have had another chance to turn things around with Louis. As the night progresses, the idea becomes louder and louder until finally he gets fed up, and seeks out quiet in the empty toilets. He ignores the sway of his hand on the touchscreen when he searches out the contact. He waits patiently for the ringing to be replaced with the sinful voice that has been invading his best dreams as of late.

“Hello?” The rasp finally comes through the lines. Harry has to sit down just from hearing it in his ear. He sits dumbly listening to Louis’ breaths until they are interrupted with a more impatient “Hello? Harry?”

“How did you know?” Harry finally finds his tongue.

“Caller ID.” Louis states bluntly.

“Smart. You're so smart Lou.” Harry mumbles out. He didn't really mean it to be a mumble. He straightens up in his seat, and tries to pay more attention.

“Jesus Christ Harry, you’re drunk.” Louis spits out, sounding quite patronising. Harry frowns, and pouts a little maybe.

“How do you know?” He whines.

“Well, it’s nearly 3am, and you let my phone ring about 13 times before I answered. I was worried that it was an emergency.” Louis scolds him like a child. Harry glares at the phone, a picture that he may have sneakily taken while Louis was trying on some clothes for him. He’ll never tell.

“It is an emergency Louis! You don’t like me, and that fucking sucks.”

“Is this some sort of a joke?” Louis replies, dry and sarcastic.

“No, we had a great time today, or...was it yesterday? I don’t know, but we had fun, and then we had...fun.” He hears Louis sigh, but ignores it. “Then you are all back to hating me, and my feelings, and my dick. And my dick really likes you, Lou. Like, a lot. And the rest of me too. We all like you, and your dick. And I’m pretty sure that they had a talk, and it’s mutual. They like each other, so you are keeping them apart. That’s what you are doing.” Harry huffs out a breath, thinking he did pretty well explaining the problem. Hopefully they can move on from there.

“Make sure you drink lots of water before you go to sleep love, or you’re going to have a raging headache when you wake up.” The comment was without nastiness, but lacked the feeling that Harry was hoping to hear.

“I think we should talk about it more.” He drops his voice, playing with the hem of his loose button down. “Maybe you want to hear me out.”

“I doubt it.” Louis sighs, but wait for Harry to speak all the same.

“Well, you see there are things Lou. Things that I can do to make you change your mind. And I think that you might be very interested to hear what those things are.”

“Oh yeah?” Louis is trying to sound bored, but Harry can hear the hint of interest in his voice.

“You want me. It’s not a question, no sense in fighting it. But you also like to pretend that you don’t. That you don’t crave what I have to offer.”

“You keep telling me that you have things to offer, but yet never actually tell me what they are.” Louis is trying to be cheeky, but Harry can hear the quiver in his voice, knows at least one of his weaknesses.

“Oh, was today not enough?” Harry asks, sobering up by the second, yet getting drunk on something totally different. “Need me to spell it out? Exactly what I would do if I had you alone right now?”

“Where are you?” Louis all but breathes.

“In some posh toilet of some posh club, and no where near where I want to be.”

“Can anyone hear you talking that filthy?”

“Not at the moment. Could any second though, public toilet, not exactly locks on the doors.

“Tell me, tell me.” Louis rushes out, surprising Harry. He didn’t actually think it would be this easy.

“Well Lou, you know what I like. I like taking you, whenever and wherever I want. Love holding you down, love making you obey. You’re so feisty, such a brat sometimes. Need to learn a lesson maybe.” Harry can hear Louis’ breath hitch over the other line, although he doesn’t speak. Harry can feel himself harden at the sound of his raspy breaths.

“Are you touching yourself baby?” Harry demands.

“Fucking hell.” Louis whines in lieu of an answer. Harry palms himself just at the words.

“Wish I could see you. Want to touch you. Want you to remember who you belonged to this afternoon. Bet you’re sensitive.”

“Yeah, still sensitive.” Louis puffs out in short breaths.

“Can you still feel me?”

“Yeah;” Louis says, urgency in his voice.

“Want to feel me again?” Harry asks, deciding to go all for it, he’s in deep enough as it is.

“Yeah, yes. Please.” Louis replies almost immediately. Harry holds back a groan himself.

“Fuck, okay. I’m coming. Call down to the desk, and tell them I’m getting a key for your room. Take off all of your clothes, and wait for me. No touching.” Harry pauses letting all of that information absorb before he repeats. “I mean it Louis, not a finger until I get there.”

“How...how long until you get here?” Louis asks, sounding dangerously close to the edge already.

“However long it takes me to get there, you can wait.” Then he immediately hangs up.

He then shoots Niall a quick text, not bothering to seek him out, and bolts for the door, praying for a taxi to be nearby.

  
He considers it a win that he doesn’t scream at the lovely woman behind the desk who requires photo ID before giving him a room key. He wants to describe to her in detail what is upstairs waiting for him, but he doesn’t, because he hasn’t lost all of his senses just yet. He rushes to the elevator, and watches the floors quietly hum but all with the image from Louis a short 14 hours earlier repeating on a reel in his head. He finally,  _ finally _ makes it into Louis’ room, quiet save for the low hum of the air con, and freezes. 

Just as promised, Louis undressed, just for him, and from the looks of it, he hasn’t touched, just for him, but what is capturing Harry’s eyes right at this moment is Louis grasping tightly to the headboard, hands gripping the bars above his head so hard his knuckles are white.

“Fuck Louis.” He says, in awe. Louis just puffs out a frustrated breath.

“You said not to touch. I needed help.” He grits out, writhing uncomfortably on the large bed that seems to encompass him.

“And you listened so well,Lou.” Harry replies, leaning one knee on the bed, and giving Louis’ dick a firm, but fleeting brush with his hand. Louis bucks up, looking for more pressure, whining high in the back of his throat, but not releasing the bars. Harry wonders how long he could play this game before Louis is completely undone. He doesn’t think it would take long tonight. “Spread your legs for me a little, love.” Harry requests. Louis complies immediately. Harry slides between them, still fully clothed, with the grime of the club on him still. Harry moves right for Louis’ lips, and Louis takes his mouth hungrily.

“You smell like other men.” Louis states when Harry breaks away, he smiles.

“Jealous?” He asks, Louis glares at him.

“In your dreams.” He growls, making Harry smile brighter.

“Think I could make you jealous.” He moves to Louis’ neck, Louis moves his head to allow more access. Harry lazily licks, and bites his way down to Louis’ collarbone. “What do  you want, Lou?” Harry asks into his skin, causing goosebumps to form across his chest and arms.

“I want… I want you to take what you want.” Louis breathes. Harry smirks, and lifts his head, seeing Louis’ wild, and desperate eyes.

“I want that too, but I’m going to make you work for it a little. What were you thinking I would do when you were laying here, waiting for me, being good for me. Tell me, use your words.”

“Harry!” Louis whines, thrusting up again seeking Harry’s body for friction against his thick erection. Harry merely pulls away completely.

“Come on Lou, play nice. Otherwise, this is going to last a little bit longer than you will probably like. He gives Louis’ cock a gentle squeeze, eliciting another moan from Louis, but no protest. Harry waits for Louis to start talking before he goes back to administering his attention to Louis’ chest, and throat.

“I was thinking.” Louis starts shakily, shuddering out a breath. “That you would like it. The way I looked, all stretched out for you. Arms up, helpless.” Harry bites gently on his nipple, making him hiss. “I wanted you to grab me, maybe grab my hair, and pull my neck back.” Harry does so immediately, causing Louis to gasp, but it’s far from a gasp of pain. Harry talks into his neck.

“What else, what’s next?”

Louis moans out loud, but continues. “Then I imagined you grabbing my wrists, holding them yourself. Like last time. God, your hands are so big, and you just...take me. Fuck. I want you to take everything.” Harry reaches up, and easily takes Louis’ wrists in his hand. He doesn’t grasp him as hard as he did last time, he doesn’t have to. Louis goes easily.

“Just like this.” Harry hitches a leg up with his other hand, rubbing his clothed cock against Louis’ bare ass. Louis immediately grinds down, looking for more. Harry humps him dry for a few strokes before moving away. “Are you still open from earlier?” Louis nods frantically. “You sure?”

“Yeah, want to feel it. Want to remember.” Harry takes his mouth for another kiss before he moves away, leaving Louis a mixture of limp, and wired on the bed. He undresses quickly, never taking his eyes of the bed, Louis never taking his eyes off of Harry.

“I need a condom at least.” He reminds Louis, who just looks at the night stand. There’s a condom and lube sitting there, plain as day.  Harry had his eyes on only one thing since he walked into the room. He grabs for it, and puts on the condom, lubes himself up, and climbs between Louis’ legs once again. This time Louis wraps his thighs around Harry’s narrow hips, and pulls him in close. Their erections collide, sending a shock of pleasure to Harry’s spine. Their lips crash together once more before Harry takes Louis’ hands in his, like Louis asked him to earlier, and leans back to line himself up. “You’re going to feel this.” Harry states as fact, and warning.

“Promise?” Louis smirks back, as well as he can under the conditions that he is in. Harry’s eyes narrow, and he pushes his way in. There’s no doubt what Louis is feeling it. He’s still sensitive from the work that Harry had done on him earlier, and he’s not as opened as he should be for Harry’s girth, but he begs for more almost immediately, and who is Harry to deny this man anything he asks for? He snaps his hips forward, getting a filthy whimper in return.

“That’s it baby, you can take it.”

“Please Harry.” Louis begs through broken moans. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his head is to the side, exposing the fresh marks blossoming there. Harry dips down, and sucks, and bites some more before picking up the pace. He lifts one of Louis’ legs higher, changing the angle of his thrusts, and suddenly Louis’ eyes are opened wide, almost staring in disbelief.

“There you are. Like that?” Harry teases him, knowing full well that he does.

“Wanna come.” Louis replies, almost with a pout. It turns Harry on beyond belief that Louis is waiting for Harry’s permission. He can’t let that go to waste.

“Nope, you’re going to have to wait.” Harry says, thrusting into Louis’ prostate once more. Louis whines, but takes it, always taking what Harry has to give. “This is the deal Lou.” He continues, trying to keeps Louis’ attention. “Either you come untouched, or you will have to wait until I finish, and then finish yourself off.”

“Harry!” Louis whines again.

“Your decision.” Harry pounds into him relentlessly.

“Fuck, don’t stop, right there.” Louis resolves himself, clenching up around Harry. Harry picks up his pace, no longer fighting the temptation. Louis is releasing little ah ah ah noises, clearly on the edge. Harry lets him work it out. He wants to see Louis do it. He wants to see that power over him. It’s like a drug, and he’s addicted.

Suddenly, Louis tenses up completely, and there is a hot stream of white shooting between their chests. Harry fucks him through it as he moans, high and breathy. It doesn’t take more than a few thrusts before he’s right there, burying himself deep into Louis’ spasming heat. He can feel it down to his toes as his body jerks forward, releasing his own desires right into Louis.

He collapses heavily beside Louis, letting one arms wrap around his chest, cooling come and all, as Louis slowly brings his hands down, stretching them carefully.

“You okay?” Harry asks sleepily.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Louis says, a lot more quiet than Harry has ever heard him. He opens his eyes to see Louis reach out for something on the bedside table. It’s a damp cloth. It’s cool, but Harry takes it from Louis’ hand, and cleans them both up as best as he can.

“Want me to go?” Harry asks. He doesn’t want to go, but he doesn’t want to wait for Louis to kick him out either, choosing dignity, he thinks at least offering would save him some face. Louis looks at him long and hard, not smiling, but not frowning.

“No, stay.” He says simply, and rolls to his side, curling in on himself a little. Harry sighs as quietly as he can. It’s better than nothing, he thinks, and wraps the blanket, and himself around Louis’ back, waiting for Louis to ask him to get off. He doesn’t, not before Harry drifts off to sleep anyway.

  
When Harry opens his eyes, the sun is trying to sneak in around the blinds and curtains covering the windows, slices of bright light shining in with every breeze. He rolls over to shield himself from the large windows on his left, only to be greeted by bright blue eyes on his right. He stares back, tracing every line, and feature with his eyes. Louis looks like he hasn’t moved from when he woke up. He’s buried deep in sheets, and blankets. His soft hair is almost fanned onto the pillow. His lips almost curled into a frown, but more contemplative than sad.

Harry’s content to stay there, doing just what they are doing until Louis breathes a deep sigh. “Why can’t we get along like we manage to do when we are trying to get into one another’s pants?” He asks, voice raspy from sleep.

“We are getting along right now.” Harry offers, trying to stay in this moment for as long as possible. Louis huffs, and rolls his eyes.

“You’re always in a stellar mood when you manage to make a fool of me.” He rolls over to get out of bed, but Harry catches his wrist, and brings Louis back in.

“Is that what you think this is about? Because I assure you it isn’t.” Louis just shrugs, no longer looking Harry in the eyes. “It isn’t, Louis.”

“You get a good fuck out of it as well.” Louis states as though it’s fact. Harry just shakes his head. He reaches up, cupping Louis’ chin. Louis looks him in the eyes, hurt by his own assumptions. Harry could tell him the truth right now, tell him how he really feels, but at this point, he doesn’t think Louis would even believe him.

“Do me a favour? Spend the day with me?” Louis’ expression doesn’t change, doesn’t waver. “Just the two of us. Please.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Louis replies, barely above a whisper.

“I know I don’t have to, but I couldn’t think of anything else I would rather be doing.”

He wants to leap off the bed and pump the air when Louis raises his lip, even if it’s just minutely.

  
“No.” Louis says as he walks out of the doors to the main lobby of the resort. Harry pouts, but doesn’t move as Louis makes his way towards him. 

“What?” He asks, the picture of innocence. Louis snorts, and rolls his eyes.

“I’m not getting on that thing.” He points behind Harry to the shiny motorcycle that he’s currently leaning on. He stands up, and walks towards Louis in greeting, not really knowing how to approach it. His instinct is to lean in for a kiss, but he somehow feels that they aren’t there. Yet.

“Come on Lou, where’s your sense of adventure?” Harry pats him on the shoulder, as affectionately and intimately as he can without crossing a line, and messing this all up. The bike was a risk, but he’s sticking with it.

“You’re trying to kill me, it’s confirmed. I bet you already hired a bunch of goons to toss my body into the sea.” Louis crosses his arms as though it’s a challenge.

“I would never,” Harry replies in mock outrage. “Desecrate something as beautiful as your body by letting a bunch of thugs toss you around. I would definitely throw you in the sea myself, to make sure you were properly appreciated, and taken care of.”

Louis barks out an involuntary laugh at Harry’s antics before eying up the offensive object in question once more. “Do you actually know how to drive one of these things?” Louis asks, skeptical. Harry smiles, knowing that he’s cracking the shell.

They make their way through the congested streets of Rio, avoiding all of the obvious tourist traps. Harry is happy to just sit on the bike, with Louis’ arms wrapped around his waist. He has been careful not to do anything to scare Louis, hoping that Louis would get a feel for the motorcycle, and want to feel a little adventurous all on his own. They finally slows down at a market that spreads out in front of them. It’s a little different than the typical souvenirs, and knick knacks. Harry hopes Louis will like it. 

They climb off together, locking the helmets onto the bike, and look around. Harry is excited. Louis curious.

“What is this?” He turns to Harry, genuinely interested. Some of that skepticism worn off.

“Babilonia Feira Hype” Harry replies, letting the words slip off of his tongue easily. “Something a little different. I have been here before, for work.”

Louis looks around at the rolls of fabrics piled in baskets, and the racks of clothing everywhere Harry could see. “So you are bringing me clothes shopping. I thought that part of our relationship was over.”

Harry flushes, both at the memory of how they met, and at the mention of them having anything besides acknowledgement for one another.

“I just thought,” Harry tries to rise above the jitters in his stomach, “That I would share a part of myself with you. An important part. Maybe we could just get to know each other.” Harry knows that Louis could make a snide remark, he could outright refuse to allow Harry into his life. But he doesn’t say anything at all. Simply nods, and waits for Harry to lead the way.

They make their way through the tables, and booths of the market. Harry refrains from actually shopping, which would take him hours in a place like this. He talks to Louis about the different fabrics, and clothes that they pass, telling him what he likes, and why. What catches his eye. How new trends are predicted etc. They wander through a few booths that are carrying jewellery. Rings, and bracelets, a few necklaces. Harry does slow down for this, he can’t pass up the large baubles that he likes to decorate his fingers.

Louis stands back a little, quiet as he has been for most of the tour. Harry eyes the rings in front of him, wondering if he really needs to add another to his collection. He glances over his shoulder, considering asking Louis his opinion when he sees that he lost his interest.

“Not really your thing is it?” He smiles in Louis’ direction. A guilty look passes quickly over Louis’ face before he shrugs.

“Sorry. I am enjoying everything you are showing me. I just wouldn’t know where to begin with any of this stuff.” He waves his hand in the direction of all of the bold jewelry that had originally caught Harry’s attention.

“Well, this isn’t really you is it?” Louis shakes his head, still looking at the overwhelming choices in front of him. He looks to Harry like he is really trying to seem interested, and maybe showing an interest in Harry’s passion. But he looks lost. “I bet I could find something that you would actually like.” Harry challenges him. Louis looks skeptical.

“I don’t really wear jewelry.” He scrunches his nose again.  

“Well, I can at least try. If you don’t like it, we don’t have to get it.”

“Alright. Let’s have a look.” Harry smiles, and immediately moves on from the items that he was previously scanning. They stop at a table that is a lot more shiny, and a lot more delicate. Louis steps up beside him, eyes drawn to the long lengths of silver and gold chains hung carefully on tiny racks.

Harry picks one up, and holds it up to Louis’ chest. It would rest just below his breastbone if it were around his neck. “Perfect” He says, almost to himself.

Louis looks down, running the thin piece of metal through his fingers. “Are you sure?” He asks Harry, which means that Louis already likes it. Harry smiles wide.

“It would look gorgeous on you, but most things do.” He says with a softer voice than he knew he possessed. Louis rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, and Harry knows that the complement got to him.

“Alright, you win this one.” Louis says, reaching for his wallet.

“No, let me.” Harry stops him. “My treat, part of the... experience.” It’s not a date, he has to remind himself.

“Um, alright.” Louis flushes slightly, taking the chain into his hand. Before he has a chance to grab it though, Harry quickly pulls it away from him.

“Just a second.” He quickly scans a tray of small items, he finally finds what he’s looking for, and turns back to Louis. He slips a small pendant on the chain before he slips it over Louis’ head. Harry was right in the way that it lay on Louis’ chest. Just low enough so that when Louis looks down he can see what’s on the end.

“Why a pirate ship?” Louis asks, admiring the white gold figure in his hand.

“Oh...well,” Harry rubs his arm, suddenly embarrassed. “I have a tattoo of a ship. I thought maybe it could be something to remember the trip, and me.” He suddenly feeling very presumptuous that Louis would want to remember this weekend at all.

But Louis just keeps looking at the pendant. Harry feels like time is standing still until Louis looks back up, letting it drop to his chest. “Thank you.” He says earnestly. It does nothing to calm Harry’s jitters. For the first time since Harry has met Louis, he has a complete poker face. It’s maddening.

“Can I choose something for you?” Louis asks suddenly, and Harry isn’t being dramatic when he thinks that he is shocked.

“Yes, of course!” He enthusiastically nods his head. Louis smiles, not a smirk, a smile, and it floods into Harry’s heart like a dam breaking. Louis turns around to the exact place Harry was, choosing carefully, and keeping his back to Harry as to not ruin what Louis obviously wants to be a surprise. Finally he chooses, and pays the vendor, still keeping his treasure closed in his hand.

Harry tries hard to not whine because he still hasn’t given it up when they are back to the bike. He sighs heavily when they are both seated, helmets in hand. Louis giggles behind him, but doesn’t offer up the prize then either. They drive r back to the hotel. Harry could be imagining it, but he thinks he feels Louis grip him a little tighter, let his body rest on Harry’s a little more heavily this time.

When they pull up to the resort, Harry gets off the bike, but Louis stays seated for a moment.

“That was really nice what you did today.” Louis says carefully.

“It was my pleasure, truly.” Harry replies quickly. Louis nods.

“I’m glad you weren’t bothered by me being here.”

“I’m sure that the trip would have been a lot less fun without you. I am glad you came. I am glad you are here too.”

“Me too.” Louis nods, almost to himself. There’s still something troubling him, still a storm in his eyes, but Harry doesn’t push. “For what it’s worth, I’m not mad at you, or myself anymore.”

“I’m glad.” Harry replies. Louis nods again, getting off the bike.

“I should go pack. I told Liam we could spend some time together before we had to leave.” They are flying out in a few hours, Harry almost forgot. The thought makes him sad for a moment. He doesn’t want to lose this when they get back to England. He can’t let Louis slip back out of his life again.

“Louis, can I ask you something?” He calls out before Louis has a chance to walk away.

“Sure.” Louis pauses in his tracks. Harry catches up to him. He doesn’t reach out for him, but he gets close enough that he could if he wanted to.

“When we get home, would you ever consider going out with me? On a date?” Louis was obviously not expecting this as the question. He gapes at Harry until Harry starts to squirm under his glare.

“Like, go out? Romantically?” Louis squeaks out.

“Yes, dinner, movie, museum, date.”

“All of those?” Louis asks, completely taken off guard, his common sense must be frozen as well.

“Any of those, or all of those. I would love to take you on many dates.”

“Oh, well...I haven’t really thought about it.” Louis replies. Harry deflates. At least he tried, he thinks to himself.

“Okay, that’s fine Lou. I just thought I would ask.” He makes to walk away again when Louis calls for him this time.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t think about it.” He says, sounding a little scared. He takes a step to Harry, and holds out his hand. Harry reaches for it, and Louis drops something into his palm. “I will definitely think about it.”  

Louis does walk away then. Harry waits until he is gone before he opens his hand and sees a chain almost identical to the one around Louis’ neck. Only this one has a different pendant. A paper airplane, just like the one tattooed onto Louis’ arm.

 


	13. Chapter 13

It’s been three days since Louis has landed in London, and he is still utterly dumbfounded by what happened on his weekend away. Going into the trip Louis thought that an optimistic outcome would probably be tension, with a few awkward encounters. He hadn’t anticipated Harry actually smiling when he showed up at the airport, and as for the rest…. He is trying not to think about it. Because when he does, his senses leave him completely. He needs to think rationally. 

Harry asked him out on a date, and he didn’t say no. Remembering Harry’s hands on him, and in him, doesn’t help in clear thinking, and common sense. Which then brings him to the day they had spent together, and Harry was so sweet, and spoke soft. He listened to Louis, and acted like he was actually interested in what he had to stay.

It was basically a side of Harry he had never seen. A side that so many people around him said was there, but he had just never seen. The question is, does Louis want to do anything about that? Just because Harry suddenly turned into this nice guy, doesn’t mean that Louis needs to jump into his arms.  There is still a history there, and up until this point, most of it has been negative for Louis.

And naturally Liam has been no help. It took the entire plane ride for him to convince Louis to spill the details of his and Harry’ little day trip. And when Louis confessed that he brushed off a date, all Liam would do was mumble words like idiot, and lost opportunity. Whatever, Liam doesn’t know the whole story, and Louis isn’t about to tell him.

But he has to tell something to Harry, as much as he would like to pretend the entire thing didn’t happen, he needs to be the better person, and let him down gently.

Or accept. Fuck, he just doesn’t know.

The answer surprisingly comes in the form of Niall. They are out to breakfast one morning Niall decided to fly into London for a few days. He had parted ways with them in Brazil, choosing to stay on for a few more days. He met a girl or something, Louis was too occupied with his own problems to really pay attention, but he is back, and wanted all of the gossip from the other side of the story.

“I swear, Harry didn’t tell me a thing. Which means that there is most definitely something going on, and I want to know what that is.” Niall barks loudly in the small restaurant.

“It’s not completely my story to tell Niall. What if Harry wanted to keep it to himself?” He replies, trying to stall, but knowing that it’s a losing battle. Niall rolls his eyes.

“Tell me Tommo. I am a very patient man. I can wait here all day.” He leans back in the chair, the picture of laid back. Louis would almost believe it if he had never met the hurricane on two feet before.

“You realise that I can just walk out of here.” Louis jabs at him, looking to get a rise.

“Yeah, but you won’t.” Niall says, confident as always. Louis sighs, but starts talking.

Niall, to his credit, doesn’t say a word until Louis is finished the last of the details. Including the part where he has no idea what to do about Harry. Louis waits while he takes a sip of tea, and leans back again, arms folded in front of him.

“You want my advice?” Niall asks. Louis knows that he’s going to get in either way, so he just shrugs.

“Why do you have to go from mortal enemies to married?”

“What?” Louis wasn’t expecting that at all. He assumed that Niall would be the same as Liam, and push Louis towards Harry’s open arms.

“Tell me, what do you know about Hazza besides his job, and his best mate? That’s me by the way.” Louis sits back, and thinks for a moment. The only answers come to mind are really not appropriate to the conversation. Such as the way his jaw tightens when he comes, or the curve of his silhouette when it’s free of clothing.

“I guess not really anything.” Louis shrugs.

“Exactly, then how are you supposed to decide if you like the lad if you know nothing about him? Maybe try there.” Niall’s smug face says it all. He’s right.

“So, make friends.” Louis repeats, just for clarity.

“Wouldn’t hurt either of you to take a little step back, and catch your breaths. I love you Lou, but Harry hasn’t even been on a date in a long time. I need to know that he’s not going to come out of this with more scars than he has already. You know?” Niall suddenly looks serious, and that’s the thing about Niall. He loves to joke, and tease. But his friends’ happiness just isn’t a laughing matter.   Louis nods. “Maybe I’ll call him.” He says, and Niall smiles bright again.

“There’s a good lad.”

  
Later that night Louis sits deep in the corner of his couch, listening to the phone on his ear ring. He considers hanging up several times, feeling like this is his last chance to forge this whole thing. But he doesn’t, and after only a few rings, Harry’s voice comes over the other end.

“Hello?” His deep voice vibrates into Louis’ ear. It sounds hopeful. He knows that it’s Louis.

“Hi Harry, how are you?” He replies.

“I'm fine. Glad you called to be honest.” Louis can’t even believe his ears. Harry sounds nervous almost. Is this the same man that has reduced Louis to a whimpering mess just with his words? And also cut him to the core with his condensation, and dagger eyes?

“Sorry it took so long. I thought a lot about what you said before we left Brazil.” He pauses for a moment. He feels sure that what he is about to say is going to disappoint Harry. Maybe even make him reject Louis’ offer at friendship.

“That’s okay. I guess I just dropped that on you.” Harry replies, still sounding sheepish.

“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I mean, we kind of know each other in certain ways. Physical ways at least.” That gets a chuckle from Harry. “But I really don’t know much else about you at all, besides what you do for a living, and I don’t think you know that much about me either.”

“Isn’t that what most people do on dates? Get to know one another?” Harry challenges Louis, a little bit of that old tone coming back.

“I just feel like there is more to it here.” Louis sighs quietly. “And I think that maybe we should get to know each other a little better than we do now before we go any further.” There, he has said it. It’s on the table now.

“So, you want to be friends first?” Harry asks, his tone neutral.

“I would like that.” Louis replies. “But it has to be something we both want. Do you think you would like to try?” The line is silent for a few seconds, but to Louis is feel like hours.

“You are the most frustrating person I have ever met.” Harry replies, but he does it with a laugh. “I would love to try to be friends with you. I actually look forward to getting to know you.”

“Okay.” Louis sighs with relief. “That is great.”

“That doesn’t mean I am not going to try to charm the pants off you.” Harry replies, tone still light. Louis smiles.

“I expect nothing less.”

They hang up shortly afterwards, but not before making plans for dinner. Just as friends, Harry reminds him. That doesn’t stop the butterflies from forming in his stomach at the thought of it.

  
This is not a date.  _ This not a date _ . Louis repeats to himself while sitting at the dining table. He hopes that if he convinces himself that there is nothing to be nervous about, the nerves will settle a little. It’s not working. He knows that this is a big step for both of them, and for the first time since he has met Harry Styles, he really doesn’t want to fuck it up. He fiddles with the ship tucked behind his soft gray long sleeved shirt, and tries to not fidget too much waiting for Harry to show up. 

When Harry walks into the rooms he wastes no time heading straight for Louis’ table, long legs striding gracefully between tables, and chairs. He’s wearing his hair up. His long torso is made to look even longer with the coat that reaches his knees, and his legs look even slimmer encased in the close fitting trousers. He smiles when he sees Louis giving him a once over, and immediately shrugs off his coat, and passes it to the host that is hovering behind him. His shirt is some kind of black and white geometric mess, and matches the scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. On any other human being it would look completely ridiculous. Louis is sure of it. But on Harry… it isn’t.

“Interesting shirt Styles.” Louis tries to sound uninterested, distant even. He fails miserably, and Harry just smiles as he sits down opposite him, eying the menu.

“Thank you.” He smirks, giving Louis himself a once over. Well, what he can see of him anyway. He doesn’t return any compliments which shouldn’t matter. It really shouldn’t, but it irks him none the less.

“What makes you think that’s a compliment?” Louis challenges him. Already seeing how far this dinner can go before one of them walks out in a huff. This isn’t how this was supposed to start. But Harry continues to smile, a knowing look on his face.

“Interesting is what I was going for. You said it was interesting, so I obviously achieved my goal.” He looks smug. Louis wants to slap the smile off his face. Or kiss it off. He doesn’t want to think about it. “So, what was your thought process on this?”

Harry waves a hand discreetly at Louis’ body, and he looks down instinctively, even though he knows exactly what he has on. He doesn’t know if it’s a dig at his clothes, or a genuine question. He doesn’t like to be made fun of. He narrows his gaze at Harry, who is just smiling. Always smiling. What the hell is so funny anyway?

“My thought was that I like to wear clothes that make me feel good. This shirt is soft, and I like the colour. I like the way it looks on me, and if you have a problem with that, maybe you can take that smug smirk, and go the fuck home.” He doesn’t exactly raise his voice, but Harry leans back anyway, hands raised in surrender. The smile is gone though, and though Louis knows that that was the point, he doesn’t feel any better to see that he has succeeded.

“I’m sorry, Lou. I was just asking. You know me, ask me about clothes, and it’s all I am going to want to talk about.” His voice sounds small, and Louis feels like such an absolute asshole. This is going to be harder than he thought.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I just...we just don’t have a great history there. Maybe avoid the fashion talk for now?” Harry nods, but his brows are still pinched together.

“Did I really upset you this much when you were my client?” He is staring at Louis, all humour gone from his face, just serious concern. Louis looks down at his napkin that he has crumpled in his hand over and over again.

“Well, yeah. I mean, I like the way I dress. I like who I am, and the choices I make about my...body, the way I dress, my fitness, all of it. I didn’t ask for someone to come in and tell me it was all wrong. And so it kind of felt like a personal attack.”  Harry looks even more upset, and Louis just wants to crawl into a hole and never come back out. “I know you didn’t mean it. For what it’s worth.” Harry rolls his eyes, and scoffs. “No, I mean it. I am sure everyone else that comes to you actually appreciates the work you do for them. And if I hadn’t been so stubborn, and defensive, maybe I would have been able to appreciate you too.” Is he apologizing? Louis can’t really tell.

“Well, maybe I should have actually seen how much you were struggling, and not have tried to treat you like you were my plaything.” Louis’ breath hitches, just as Harry’s eyes widen. “I mean…” He stumbles out, but Louis cuts him off.

“Yeah.” His voice sounds ragged, but Harry’s smirk comes back just for a second.

“And since we are laying it all out there. I definitely shouldn’t have sent that voice mail after you got hit.” Harry looks so sorry, so apologetic, that it makes Louis’ chest clench.

“I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that. The truth is that I was scared. Terrified. That guy, he just manhandled me, and I didn’t do anything...I didn’t cry out, I didn’t try to fight him. Then he punched me. Right in front of everyone. Didn’t think twice about it. All I could think was what if it wasn’t in the club, what if it was in the bathroom, or in the alley. How far would it have gone? And everything you said? I said to myself over and over again, and then you called, and basically confirmed how much of an idiot I was, and that just made me so mad. Mad at myself mostly, but it’s so much easier to be mad at you.” He pauses. It was meant as a joke, but Harry isn’t smiling. He offers him a lopsided smile. “I’m sorry.”

“I hope you know that none of that was your fault. I was wrong.  I was just so scared. I just wanted you to be safe.” Harry is still serious.

“Why are you so upset right now? I said I was sorry.” Louis feels so defensive, so vulnerable in Harry’s presence. So small, yet at the same time, like he’s the only thing in the room, and has nowhere to hide.

“Louis!” Harry’s voice sounds frustrated. “I am not mad at you. Christ. I am mad at that complete douchebag for doing this to you. For making you feel that way. And I am mad at myself for just encouraging you to feel that way. You do not deserve that. You should never feel that way again.”

“Well, I probably will. It’s just the way life goes.” Louis sighs, and takes a drink of his wine. They still haven’t ordered, probably because Louis hasn’t even looked at his menu.

“Not if I can help it you won’t.” Harry mutters under his breath, taking his own drink, more like a gulp as he takes almost half of the glassful into his mouth.

“You can’t. That is where we started. It’s not up to you, you can’t control it. You can’t control me.”  Louis doesn’t say it with malice, just matter of factness. But Harry digs his fingertips into his eyes.

“Oh God, we are having this conversation again.” He almost sounds like he’s going to cry, and Louis rolls his eyes at the dramatics of it all.

“Harry, look at me.” Harry reluctantly lowers his hands, and stares at Louis. Louis wasn’t prepared for the intensity of it, he never is. “You want to be friends?”

“Or something.” Harry grumbles, definitely sulking.

“Then you have to accept a few things. And the most important one is to let me be me.”

“I like you being you.” Harry replies, a hint of a pout.

“I have a hard time believing that when every other sentence out of your mouth is you trying to make me change. Whether it’s my clothes, or my mind.”

“I can’t try to make you change your mind?” Harry sounds incredulous. Louis is trying really hard not to laugh. “Friends do that all the time. It’s called compromise or someshit.”

“We aren’t friends yet. And I don’t know if we will be until I can trust that when you do try to change my mind if it’s in my best interest and not yours.” Harry slumps in his seat again, and Louis wonders if he has crossed the line. If Harry is even slightly less interested in Louis than he thought, it would be so easy for him to just walk away right now. And he finds that he really doesn’t want that.

“So, we are not friends, you don’t trust me, and we already have a list of off limits topics. Sounds like a grand time.” Harry rolls his eyes, but smiles up at the ceiling when doing so. “Why did you agree to see me then?” He looks back at Louis like he’s challenging him to a duel. Louis swallows, but keeps the eye contact.

“When we were away together, I saw how it could be. Being your friend...and more. And when you asked me on a date. I wasn’t expecting that. I really wasn’t. But I couldn’t say no. And I couldn’t say yes, because it wouldn’t have been a happy ending. We would still have this...tension between us. This, tonight is…” He looks for a word that would explain everything he has been feeling over the last few weeks.

“Compromise.” Harry replies. Louis just shrugs helplessly. “So how do you feel it’s going so far?”  The question is sarcastic, but Louis answers seriously.

“Pretty well I think.” Louis replies. Harry snorts, clearly not agreeing. “Well, this is the longest conversation we have ever had without one of us walking out of the room. And I fully intend to stay and enjoy a meal if we ever get a waiter over here.” He smiles at Harry, the best smile he could muster. Harry contemplates for a few moments, and closes his menu.

“I guess so.” The waiter, who had obviously been waiting for his cue makes his way to the table to take their orders.

  
  
  


The next time Louis sees Harry they are in a group. Their group to be specific. After spending hours lamenting to Liam about how awkward their dinner was, Liam suggests that they maybe should avoid one on one for a while. Liam doesn’t say, but he is under the impression that Harry had told a similar tale to Zayn. 

So when Liam and Zayn decide to go out dancing the next week, Liam invites Louis along, with a very clear message that Harry would be coming along too. Just a group of lads, going out on the town. Except two of these lads are currently practically living together, and the other two are either sleeping together, or at each other’s throats. No in between. Not that this stopped Louis from jumping at Liam’s invitation. Or spending an hour looking at himself in the mirror, wondering what in his wardrobe would drive Harry over the edge. He can be such an ass sometimes.

They do not all arrive together, but they meet outside the large doors to the exclusive club. It’s invitation only, and Liam used Louis’ fairly new status to get them all in. A small jolt of nerves runs up his spine when the loud music hits his ears. He will never admit out loud how much that man had scared him that night all those weeks ago. But looking over to Liam’s concerned face, maybe he doesn’t have to say the words.

“We got you Lou.” Is all Liam says in his ear. He nods once, and goes to the bar for a drink.

Before he is even served, a warm body slides up close to him. Too close to be an accident, and he is instantly on edge again.

“Hi,” the body speaks, and Louis is torn between relaxing into the familiarity, and tense up again for a whole other reason. He looks over at Harry’s smiling face, a genuine happy smile that is too bright not to return.

“Hello.” He replies, trying once again to flag down the bar tender.

“You look very beautiful tonight.” Harry says again, completely catching Louis off guard. Louis looks over at him and lifts an eyebrow. “What, I am not even allowed to compliment you?” Harry asks, incredulously.

“No, you can. Thank you. Laying it on a little thick though, don’t you think?” He smirks, causing Harry to flush, but smile back.

“You seemed a little tense when we walked in. I just wanted to see you smile.” Harry responds, and Louis is surprised by the sincerity. He just shakes his head, finally catching the eye of the bartender.

“So, you don’t think I’m beautiful?” He knows he’s being an ass, but sometimes he just can’t stop himself. Harry rolls his eyes, and takes a step back, giving Louis a really good once over. He stays neutral, and Louis tries to stay casual while he sips his drink, and Harry stares at him unabashedly.

“Well, those jeans absolutely kill me. They are so tight, in all the right places. I’ve admired the shoes before too, although I do wonder how you manage to walk around without socks. Don’t they blister, your feet?” Louis suppresses a giggle while he shakes his head no, and Harry keeps staring, except he has moved closer, and now has his hands on both of the lapels of Louis’ black blazer. ”This blazer is fitted at the waist, and it’s like you are trying to kill me.” He leans in even closer. Close enough that Louis could just lean in the tiniest bit and kiss him if he wanted to. He doesn't, he can't because that isn't what they are. At least his mind doesn't want that. His body, however,  has different ideas. “And I know that I've tried a lot of bold styles on you then...but white is definitely your colour. I would like to see you every day in white. You couldn't look any better honestly.”

Louis wants to give him a snappy comeback, assert himself, and take control of the situation. But he can't. He just looks down at his shoes with a new appreciation for them, and waits for Harry to step out of his space again. He does, and Louis feels like he's able to breathe again.

“Let's go find the other lads.” He croaks. Harry smiles a small, but knowing smile, and quietly follows Louis to a table in the vip lounge.

The flirtation ends when they meet up with Liam and Zayn once again. Harry appears to be putting his best foot forward, and show Louis his best behaviour. Louis is partly endeared, and partly frustrated. If he had met this Harry Styles in this club, he would probably chat him up, offer him a drink. He would be endeared by his dimpled smile, and laid back attitude. But this Harry is also barely looking sideways at Louis. And he also knows that it’s all just an act. A very sexy, frustrating, endearing act. And Louis is wondering, not for the first, second, or even third time why he thinks it’s a good idea to put himself in situations where Harry Styles can make him want to pull his hair out.

He’s pulled somewhat out of his internal ranting by Zayn’s quiet announcement of going out for a smoke. Louis almost tips over the chair he stands so fast.

“I’ll join you.” This is met by two pairs of concerned eyes.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Harry stares hard in his eyes. Louis feels like he’s trying to pull truth right out of his brain.

“I thought you quit.” Liam says almost at the same time. His eyes aren’t as challenging, or hard, but Louis actually feels a tad more guilty for lying to him.

“The mood has just this moment struck me. What’s the big deal? I’m just going to keep Zayn company.” He ushers a very confused Zayn out the door as quickly as possible, to avoid more conversation on his bad habits.

He breathes a sigh of relief when they are finally standing out on the terrace, a handful of other people there doing the same thing. It’s too cold outside to actually enjoy the fresh air, so no one seems to be lingering. Thing get even more awkward when Zayn offers him a cigarette that he declines.

“I just needed to get out of there for a second.” He explains. Zayn doesn’t press. He’s good like that.

He takes a long drag off his smoke before he speaks. “A little intense at the table.”

“Really?” Louis asks, actually confused. Louis has felt nothing coming from Harry all night, and it’s feels like a bubble is about to burst in his head.

“Well, considering how most of your interactions go, I am waiting for either a bottle be broken over one of your heads, or one of you to jump across the table, and snog the other’s face off. The anticipation is killing me.” He says it with a sarcastic smile that tells Louis that Zayn doesn’t ever get worked up about anything.

Louis contemplates for a second before he responds. “I know you and Harry are close, and I know that it’s not your place to talk, but I have to ask.” He waits for Zayn to nod his head. “This Harry. The one in there right now. Is that the Harry you know?”

Zayn takes another long drag before answering, causing Louis to want to flick it right out of his hands. He’s becoming aware of how tightly strung he is. That might be something he needs to work on in this new situation he’s in. “Well, that’s definitely a part of Harry I know. And so is the one that tried to put you in pastel trousers. And the one who donates clothes to auction for children’s charities, or who refuses to work with brands that don’t meet his standards in work ethic, and treatment of animals. Then there’s the guy who sends out passive aggressive tweets whenever his red carpet looks don’t get the best dressed status in the papers.” Louis listens in rapture, taking in all of these little details about Harry. Zayn quietly laughs to himself. “I know that you haven’t known him for long, and you probably had an opinion formed of him from the first moment. But since you are here tonight, and apparently trying to form some sort of relationship with him, I will tell you this. You don’t know even one percent of what makes up Harry Styles. And I think if you really made an effort to try. You would definitely like what you found.”

The words sound intimidating, but at the same time encouraging. Louis knows deep down that what he ever learns about Harry will never change the chemistry that seems to spark, and sometimes explode between them, but he doesn’t deny that the spark is all that he is familiar with, All he could really describe to a stranger about Harry is the way that he feels when Harry is near him. And that just isn’t enough. He nods his head, mostly to himself. Zayn is done smoking, but doesn’t rush Louis either.

“So have you and Harry ever….” Louis braves to ask. Zayn smiles again, a knowing smile. Louis hates it.

“A long time ago. In Uni.” Zayn looks up at the sky, the small smile still on his face.

“What happened?” Louis asks.

“We just weren’t compatible in a way that was kind of important to both of us.”

“Well, that explains everything.” Louis responds sarcastically.

“Well, if you want to know so badly, ask Harry.” Zayn sasses right back, and walks into the club, holding the door opened for Louis to return with him. He laughs, and follows him back to the table.

When they return, Liam smiles, eyes only for Zayn, and it makes Louis smile because his friend has found a good person to care about. The face that greets him is less loving, more sharp. Louis ignores it, and finds a way to start up a conversation with him.

“Need another?” He points to Harry’s drink. Harry immediately shakes his head no.

“You didn’t smoke.” Harry responds instead, apparently done with the small talk.

“I didn’t.” Louis responds, smiling even though his nerves are being played with.

“You didn’t have to lie to get away from me.” Harry looks hurt, and Louis didn’t even think that he would be thinking this. 

“Harry, I didn’t want to get away from you. I just needed some air. I am sorry that you thought that.” He means what he says, but it comes out sounding tired, and frustrated.

“Do I stress you out that much?” Harry keeps the questions coming. Louis wishes that he did stay out and smoke.

“Honestly? Yes. I am stressed out. You are very….intense, and a lot, and I am learning to be around you without just wanting to explode. But that isn’t all bad you know.” His eyes dip down Harry’s body which is leaning in close to Louis’ but taught with tension, hands clasped together so tightly that his knuckles are white. “He places a tentative hand on Harry’s joined ones. He can’t ignore the sharp intake of breath coming from Harry just from the touch. “I’m trying alright” He says quietly. Harry’s shoulders ease a little. Louis looks back up to see Harry nodding almost imperceptibly.

“You’re...you’re a lot too.” Harry says, sounding almost afraid to say it out loud. Louis smiles.

“I am aware. But I think we are doing well. This is good what we are doing.” Harry smiles back. A real smile. The most real one Louis has seen all night. “But I think I am going to go home, you know, while I’m ahead.”

“Yeah.” Harry chuckles. “Maybe take a cold shower.” Louis barks out a laugh, and covers his mouth. Harry smirks at him, and they both stand to make their goodbyes to the confused couple at the other end of the table.


	14. Chapter 14

The next afternoon Harry is sitting on his couch, hands over his face, trying to cover the red tint that it has become, while Liam, and Zayn are curled up on the chair next to him. 

“Come on, something must have happened.” This time it’s Liam, which is annoying, because Liam used to be so sweet, and considerate. Then he started hanging out with Zayn, and he has no one who wants to stay out of his business.

“Nothing happened. We just decided to get out of there before we both did something we would later regret.” He takes his hands off his face, and gives Liam a hard stare, that does absolutely nothing to deter him from his interrogation.

“And what would that be?” Liam smirks, leaning in closer, like Harry is about to tell him all the secrets of the universe.

“Well, within a five minute span, I was ready to cry because I though he didn’t want to be anywhere near me, chew his head off for lying to me, and bending him over the table we were all sitting at, not giving any shits who was watching.”

Liam was practically cackling at this point. Zayn was also smirking, and doing absolutely nothing to help the situation. Harry snorts, and rolls his eyes, wondering why he has to put up with this abuse in his own house. “Why are you two here again?” He asks with as much hostility as he could pour into his voice.

“You wanted to get high, and had no smoke.” Zayn smiles.

“Well, it obviously was not worth it.” Harry pouts, sinking deeper into the couch, and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Aw, come on. It’s not that bad.” Zayn coos at him. “Anyway, you won’t have to worry about it for a while.”

Harry’s head snaps up, and glares at Zayn. “What do you mean?”

Zayn stares back in confusion. “You are leaving the day after tomorrow for Paris.” Harry furrows his eyebrows. Paris? That can’t be here already. “Oh my God.” Zayn gapes at him. “You didn’t forget a client, did you?” Harry huffs again.

“I didn’t forget, just snuck up on me.” His fingers itch to call Louis, or text him, or see him. He doesn’t know, but the sudden onset of panic that has risen knowing that he won’t see him for weeks scares him, and he doesn’t want to just sit on this couch, and stew about it. But he also has no idea what to actually do.

Thankfully Zayn and Liam have had their fun, and are ready to head home. Liam calls a car, and they mumble their goodbyes before stumbling out the door, Zayn yawning wide as he leaves.

Harry stares at his phone, willing it to tell him what to do. Willing it to tell him what to say. Maybe even to tell him to stop being an idiot and go to sleep.

He settles for a quick

**Hi**

He figures that leaves it in Louis’ court. Just see if he’s available to chat.

**What’s going on?**

Louis replied really quickly. Too quickly for Harry to decide what he is supposed to say to him.

**I’m going to Paris.**

He blurts out, in text form, and immediately regrets it. He has no idea where he is going with this.

**Ok**

Louis responds, and Harry groans out loud. He’s going to delete his number, and never text again.

**What I meant to say is that I have to go on a business trip, and I know we are just friends or whatever,  but I would really like to see you before I left.**

He closes his eyes as he hits send, and waits for the buzz to come. He waits, and waits, and waits for what seems like hours, when in actuality it is only three minutes.

**I’d love to. Tell me the when and where.**

His fingers fly across the keys of his phone before he chickens out.

**How about here? I can make you dinner. Tomorrow night? Let’s say 7?**

He holds his breath. This may be the most stressful text conversation he has ever had. Finally Louis responds.

**I’ll be there.**

He lets out a sigh, and quietly punches the air, thankful that no one was there to see it.

  
  
  


Louis shows up at Harry’s door at 7pm sharp. When Harry opens the door, he freezes for a moment, because Louis is just so breathtaking. He’s dressed casually in dark blue jeans that are a little looser than he usually prefers, a light brown leather jacket that looks like it molded itself to Louis’ torso, and a plain white t-shirt that Harry hopes beyond hope that he wore because of what Harry said to him in the club that night. He has his hands in his pockets, and is looking at Harry with a nervous smile. 

Harry shakes himself out of his daze long enough to move away from the door, and welcome him in.

“Wow.” Louis says, sniffing the air delicately. “You went all out, didn’t you?”

Harry does his best to not preen from the compliment. “Sunday roast, why not?”

“It’s been ages.” Louis smiles wider, making his way to the kitchen. It occurs to Harry that he didn’t really have a plan for Louis once he got him here. Should he have set up the formal dining table? Would that be too date like? Does he expect dinner as soon as he got here? What about drinks? Drinks sound perfect right now.

“Would you like something to drink?” Harry offers as he moves towards the kitchen, retrieving a wine glass for himself.

“I actually think I will stick to water tonight.” Louis replies, he is looking at Harry with an intense gaze that Harry hasn’t ever seen on him before. It’s unsettling.

“Oh, well, I will not partake either.” Harry awkwardly sits the glass back down, not really knowing where to go from here.

“Not on my account. I just would like to keep my senses.” Louis is still staring. Harry is still confused. He just nods slowly, and reaches for the wine, pouring a bit more than he probably should.

“Well, let’s eat then.” Harry announces, taking a large, embarrassing gulp of the liquid.

They eat in relative silence, but it’s comfortable. Louis does ask him what his trip to Paris is for, he explains with as little detail as possible, hoping to not bore him too much. Louis tells him about an upcoming charity event that he has to attend. It gets awkward because the first thing that Harry asks is what he is going to wear. But Louis laughs it off easily, and tells him that it is one that Harry had already purchased for him. Harry smiles, and Louis tries to hide the smirk.

When they are finished eating, Harry takes the dishes to the kitchen, and stores them away in the dishwasher. He pours himself another glass, feeling pleasantly tingly when he walks back into the lounge to find Louis sitting on the couch, watching him. He sits down, and carefully places his glass on the end table when all of a sudden Louis is on top of him, kissing him hard into the couch. It takes a few seconds for Harry to process what is actually happening. Long enough for Louis to notice.

“This is why I said no wine. Slows your reflexes.” Louis teases him, and leans in for another kiss. The look on Harry’s face must make him stop again. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re on top of me. Kissing me.” Harry replies. More in awe of the sight than upset.

“Isn’t this why you texted me yesterday?” Louis asks, confused, Harry can feel his body starting to tense up. All he can do is shake his head.

Louis is suddenly off his lap, and sitting with his head in his hands shaking his head furiously. “Oh God.”

“No, don’t be upset. I’m sorry. Fuck, I don’t know what to say. Kiss me more. Please, I was just kidding. I totally called you to have sex.” Louis looks at Harry long enough to give him a death glare before he buries his face in his hands again.

“I thought this was some sort of posh booty call or something.” Louis groans. “ I have made a complete fool of myself. Louis suddenly stands, and makes for the door. Harry bolts after him, stopping him just before his hand reaches the handle.

“No, please no. Don’t be embarrassed. I get why you would think that. And That is partly my fault too. And I get why that is the only reason you would want to come over, but please know that this was an attempt at friendship. God…” It’s Harry’s attempt to put his head in his hands. “I just want you to like me. How pathetic is that?” He hears Louis sigh. He can’t tell if he’s frustrated with Harry or himself.

“Not pathetic Harry. I just, I don’t know. It’s different with us. I don’t exactly think of you when my list of friends come to mind.” That hurt, but Harry keeps listening. “I’m sorry I ruined your dinner. I just don’t know if I am ready for this.” Harry nods, head down, trying to keep his composure.

“If you knew it was just dinner, would you have come?” He doesn’t know why he has to ask, but it’s out there now. He braces himself for the answer.

“Probably not. And honestly I don’t know why. I couldn’t get here fast enough when I thought it was a quick shag. You just make me nervous H. Honestly, you’re easier to deal with when feelings aren’t involved.” Harry does slump at this. This is the opposite of what he has been trying to work towards with Louis. It’s disheartening to Say the least.

“I understand. Well, I am going to France for at least a month, maybe longer. You won’t have to put up with me anymore.” Harry reaches for the door to allow Louis to leave. Louis stops him.

“I’m sorry? Harry. I truly am.” Harry nods again, not looking Louis in the eye. Louis pauses for a moment, but eventually leaves without another word. Harry doesn’t slam the door. He doesn’t punch a wall. But when a plate breaks on the counter because of the force that Harry had set it down, he doesn’t even blink at the impact.

  
Louis can’t shake the feeling that he fucked up. Well, he can be honest with himself, he did fuck up. He has no idea how he got his signals crossed with Harry. Or, how he could underestimate Harry’s sincerity. He feels like such an ass. The look on Harry’s face makes his chest ache. Now he’s gone to France for God knows how long. He isn’t sure what to do, or if he even has the right to do it.

Louis sits at his desk, staring at a random email that he isn’t reading, wondering when his life got so out of focus. This isn’t him, he isn’t the guy who looks for drama, and heartache. Yet since he moved to London, it’s all he seems to be able to find. But the alternative is to just not have Harry in his life, and he doesn’t even have to consider that because it’s just not on the table anymore.

He slumps his shoulders, and resigns himself to the feeling of dread, and guilt that has formed in the pit of his stomach since he walked out Harry’s door when he gets a text on his phone. He’s embarrassed to admit how fast he grabs for it, almost smashing it to the hard tiled floor of his office before opening it.

_ Hey Boo, I’m in London for the week. I need my Louis fix. _

Niall. He somehow befriended his mother, and now mysteriously acts, and talks just like her when he’s talking to Louis. It’s disturbing to say the least. But he texts back anyway.

**Sure Neil. I’m wide open.**

_ I bet. _

Louis rolls his eyes, honestly Niall is twelve  years old.

**I changed my mind. I am busy.**

_ Meet me at the Libertine at 9 _

**Yeah yeah**

Well, at least he has something to do to keep his mind off of Harry for one night.

  
“We need to talk about Harry.” Is literally the first words that come out of Niall’s mouth upon meeting him inside the club. The music is loud, but there are not many people out on a Friday this early. 

“I could disagree with that.” Louis quips. He takes a sip of his drink, and avoids Niall’s stare. That doesn’t erase the fact that Niall is loud, and he snorts right in Louis’ ear. Louis jolts back, giving Niall the reaction he was looking for.

“I thought you told me that you were going to try to be friends.” Niall points at him with an accusatory finger. Louis shrinks down, not even able to defend himself.

“I messed up.” He replies. It’s the truth. He’s not going to try to deny it.

“I’m not even going to ask what happened. Harry didn’t say, but he’s really not happy. And that sucks, because he’s been looking forward to this contract for months now. He should be enjoying his time in France. He almost didn’t go.” Niall is still pointing.

“Why wouldn’t he go? He should probably want to get as far away from me as possible.” Louis pouts, feeling thoroughly scolded by his friend.

“He didn’t want to leave until he worked out whatever mess he has going on with you. I told him that he didn’t have enough time left in the year, never mind the day that he would have been able to pull off before he lost the client entirely. And you haven’t even tried to contact him.” Niall’s voice is rising consistently, and drawing attention. Louis looks around nervously.

“Niall, you’re making a scene.” Louis mumbles.

“You’re family Lou. and I love you. But Harry is my best friend, and you hurt him.”

He quiets his voice, but his tone is still stern. Not angry, but harder than Niall normally speaks to anyone. Louis feels like yelling, or hitting something, or just getting up, and walking out of this club altogether. Which just confirms the guilt he feels, and how Niall’s words are just repeating what he has been saying to himself since the night before. He’s a dick, a stupid, thoughtless, selfish dick. 

“I am sorry, okay?” He bursts out, louder than intended. Niall doesn’t flinch, just slides Louis’ phone, that has been sitting on the table, closer to him.

“Don’t tell me.” He says calmly, and gets up to walk to the bar, presumably for another drink.

Louis doesn’t know if Niall meant in general, or right this very minute, but he’s actually a little bit scared to ask. He stares at the dormant screen for a full five minutes. He silently wills it to do the job for him, or maybe ring with someone else wanting to talk to him. When it becomes clear that isn’t going to happen, or that Niall isn’t coming back to him anytime soon, he picks it up with a sense of determination, and dread, and scrolls through his contacts, finding Harry’s mobile number. 

He clicks on the call button, and waits. It rings three times, and Louis wills himself to not just hang up, wait for the voicemail to click on at least. At ring five the ringing stops, but Louis is still surprised to hear Harry’s huffed out “hello?” on the other end.

Louis lets out a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding, and returns the “hello.”

“Louis? I can barely hear you.” Harry raises his voice instinctively. Louis curses silently, he had all but forgotten the world around him when he focused on his task. 

“Sorry, sorry. Can you just hold on a moment? I will go someplace more quiet.” Harry doesn’t respond, just waits until Louis talks again. He goes outside, he needs a little fresh air anyway. It’s not silent, and there are a few people milling around with cigarettes in their hands, but it’s better than the thump of the music, and general chaos of the people inside. “Hello.” Louis says again.

“Hi.” Harry responds. It’s hesitant. More so than when he first answered. Louis feels defeated already.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Louis almost hopes that he says yes, and this can be over with. He can say that he tried, and be done with awkward conversations with Harry Styles.

“I can talk, if you need me to.” Harry replies with a neutral tone. Louis braces himself.

“I don’t need…” He stops himself, he’s not falling into that old habit. Not tonight. “I really just want to apologise. For last night.” He waits, but there is no reply, just Harry breathing on the other end of the line. “I assumed...I underestimated you. I turned you into something that you aren’t...in my head. That is just so unfair of me, especially since I am the one who asked if you wanted to be friends. I asked you to be my friend, and then when you were I completely dismissed your intentions. I’m sorry.” Louis is finally silent, feeling like he has said what needed to be said.

“You didn’t think that I had the emotional capacity to want to spend time with you that didn’t include wanting to take your clothes off. This is what you are saying.” He doesn’t phrase it as a question, and Louis can hear the hurt in his voice.

“I am sorry Harry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I can tell you what you were thinking.” Harry blasts at him, voice incredulous. “You were thinking that I’m not good for anything besides getting you off. You haven’t even tried to learn who I am. I am trying so hard Louis. I just… I really like you, and I am trying here. I could just walk away. I could make my life easier,. But I don’t want to do that. I want to know you. I want you to know me. But that’s not going to happen if you don’t figure out that I am a human being at the very least. I’m not a machine you know?”

He’s angry, and Louis honestly doesn’t blame him. “I know, I’m sorry. I...I don’t want you to walk away.”

“But you don’t want me either.” Harry states, as though it’s a fact, and Louis wants to scream. Yes! Yes Louis wants him. But Louis doesn’t want this every day. The hurt that seems to come with every conversation. He wants the good parts. Maybe he’s being unrealistic.

“I want to know you. I want you to know me.” He finally says. He’s trying to stay calm, trying to pull Harry closer to him, if just emotionally.

“It may be too late.” Harry’s voice is still sharp, but not biting.

“Is it?” Louis holds his breath, waiting for an answer.

“I’m here, you’re there.” Harry replies instead of giving him a straight answer. Louis can’t tell if it’s a way out, or a way to stay in. He tries his best anyway.

“I will call you. I will text. Hell, I will even write letters. Just, let me show you how sorry I am. Please.” He pleads. The intensity in his voice scares him a little. He didn’t realise how far he was teetering on the edge, how close he was to losing Harry forever. And he didn’t realise until this moment how much he needs that to not happen.

Harry sighs on the other end of the line. It sounds tired, and resigned. “Yeah, maybe a little distance will be a good thing. Less pressure. But I do expect at least one letter, now that you offered.” The teasing tone is barely there, but it’s there. And Louis smiles when he hears it.

“I can definitely do that. How about you call me tomorrow. You know my schedule better than I know yours right now.” Louis offers, hoping that it’s not too forward. But Harry chuckles a little.

“I would like that.” He replies.  “I should get back to work.”

“Goodnight Harry.” Louis says with more tenderness than he intended.

“Night Lou.”


	15. Chapter 15

The next evening may be a Saturday, and Louis may have cancelled anything that had resembled a plan to go out with friends so that he could wait for Harry’s call.  He calls himself a few unsavoury names for being such a needy idiot. He doesn’t even know if Harry is going to call. Butt he’s not taking any chances, their next conversation can’t be a repeat of the last time. He will wait for Harry. He will follow Harry’s lead for once.

At exactly 8pm, Louis receives a text from Harry.

_ Are you busy? _

releases a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, and types.

**Not at all, just waiting for you** .

The phone almost immediately starts to ring. He doesn’t let it get to the second one before he answers.

“Hello.” He almost whispers, although he doesn’t quite know why.

“This is weird.” Harry sounds nervous. Louis chuckles a little because he agrees.

“Nothing about us has ever been normal. Why start now?” Louis attempts to joke.

“True.” Harry replies. Louis wishes that he had have thought of a few things to say to him, because this is getting more awkward by the minute.

“You are still upset with me.” He states, no sense in attempting to small talk right now.

“I guess I am.” Harry says slowly. “I wonder sometimes why we even bother.” Louis’ breath hitches. He has wondered himself, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to keep Harry close to him.

“I don’t know, but we both seem to have a hard time letting go.”

“Stubborn assholes, the both of us.” Harry replies, his tone is dry as ever, but Louis can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe.” Louis pauses, wondering if he should just lay his cards on the table. “I don’t want to just let go.”

“No?” Harry sounds hopeful which gives Louis the bravery he needs.

“I want to get to know you. I want to know about you.”  The silence on the other end of the line is almost deafening.

“Okay.” Harry says simply.

“Yeah?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, I just… What I know about you now. I just really want more. If you didn’t notice, you fascinate me Louis. You have from the minute we met. The good parts, and even the infuriating parts. I just wish that you saw me in the same way.”

“Infuriating?” Louis laughs. “Is that the word?”

“I have a lot of words that I can use to describe you.” Harry’s tone suddenly gets low, and Louis has to clear his throat to continue.

“Tell me what you are doing in France.” He changes the subject quickly. He can hear Harry sigh on the other end of the line.

“Working. Nothing you would be interested in.”

“Well, tell me about your favourite thing about Paris. I haven’t been there in so long.” Louis tries to encourage the conversation.

“You are going to laugh.” Harry replies.

“I promise not to.”

“The Eiffel Tower.” Harry says. Louis can tell that he’s smiling. Louis can’t help but smile as well.

“The Eiffel Tower is a very noble structure. I love visiting it every time I am near enough.” Louis replies in earnest.

“Really? I went yesterday. I was the first thing I did when I got off the train. I love the structure, but it’s the people I enjoy the most. So much wonder in theirs eyes, so much romance in the air. I like to try to spot the people who are seeing it for the first time. It’s like they are seeing magic happening right in front of them.”

“That sounds beautiful Harry.”

“Maybe we could go together sometime.” Harry says. Louis can’t help but picture Harry standing at the top of the tower, not looking at the view, not looking at the steel beams, and lights all around him, but looking at the faces of the people. He suddenly finds himself not wanting to be anywhere else.

“I would like that I think.” Louis curls his legs up under himself, and settles deeper into the couch. A small smile forms on his lips. “Tell me more. Where is your favourite restaurant. Where are you staying? How is your client? Have you worked for them before?”

With every question Louis becomes more intrigued. Sometimes by Harry’s stories, sometimes just listening to the tone of his voice when he talks about things that truly make him happy. Harry seems to be getting more comfortable as well. The walls are starting to come down, and he is happy to just sit and talk to Harry all evening.

Which ends up being exactly what they do. The second or third time he hears Harry stifle a yawn, he looks at the clock on the wall. 1am.

“Harry, it’s late. I should let you go.” He says sympathetically, but also with a little bit of regret.

“I’m fine.” Harry responds just as he yawns loudly, not trying to hide it this time. “Or maybe I should get some sleep. I’m working tomorrow.”

“I am going to mum, and Dan’s for dinner tomorrow. But I will take a text when you are not busy.” Louis asks.

“Sounds good Lou. I will talk to you soon.” Harry sounds sleepier with every word, and Louis can’t help but smile.

“Sleep well H.”

“I will.”

Their phone conversations quickly become daily routines, their text chatter almost constant. Louis sends him daily outfit choices, which Harry almost always praises.

**I love the blue on blue**

_ Are you sure it’s not too much? Do I look like a smurf? _

**Throw on a bold pair of shades, and you should be fine**

_ Ok, I have just the pair that you bought that I have been saving _

Harry sends him beautiful shots of the places he visits when he has time off. It’s light, and natural, and Louis doesn’t seem to remember a time when talking to Harry wasn’t his favourite part of the day.

“I had some time today, so I went to Montmartre. I climbed the hill and actually went to the basilica this time. I have never been. Always thought it was too crowded, but it was amazing.” Harry tells Louis with a sleepy, slow drawl. Louis stays quiet, so he will continue his story. “The views were incredible. I imagined us there, together, on the steps sharing a bottle of wine.”

“That sounds lovely.” Louis responds, trying to picture the scene as well.

“Have you ever been?” Harry asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Not to the basilica, but I like to go to Montmartre, and wander through the streets, away from the crowds. You can’t really get lost because if you suddenly find you don’t know where you are, you can just start walking up the hill until you reach the Sacre Coeur.”

“That sounds like you’ve maybe been lost there before and had to work out a strategy.” Harry chuckles lightly. Louis smiles right along with him.

“Ha, maybe.” He replies. “There was a chill in the air, and I finally just stopped trying to find my way, and went for a drink. There barman gave me some warm, spiced wine, and told me it was impossible to be lost in Montmartre.”

“Spiced wine sounds good. That might be my adventure for tomorrow.” Harry yawns, signalling the end of the conversation. Louis is sure that he wouldn’t sleep unless Louis forced him off the phone.

“Bed time for you.” Louis sing songs, eliciting a chuckle from Harry.

“Yeah, alright. Tomorrow though.”

“Tomorrow.” It’s how they end every conversation, never goodbye. Just ‘tomorrow’ like an unspoken promise. And Harry never lets him down.

  
Neither of them bring up the night before Harry left again. In fact neither of them bring up anything from the previous months, focusing more on getting to know one another, and enjoy each other’s company. It’s been nice. More than nice.

“Hey Lou.” Harry greets him one cold November evening. He had been gone for over two weeks now, and that is how long they had been keeping in contact. Harry sounds tired. His workload is getting increasingly more difficult with this client, but Louis refrains from telling him that he needs a break.

“Hey H. How are they treating you over there?” Louis asks gently, burrowing down further into his duvet. It’s not actually cold in his flat, but what’s the point of a cold November night in London if you can’t cocoon yourself in your warm blankets?

“Ugh, my feet are killing me. I think I have dressed over one hundred people today. Well, about a dozen people in over a hundred different styles.”

As exhausting as that sounds, Louis can still hear the smile in Harry’s voice. He always smiles when work is going well, and it seems that this trip has been very rewarding for Harry.

“Well that is good. That means that he likes what you are doing.” Louis praises him. He is still so limited in his knowledge of what Harry actually does, but he can pick up on when Harry is proud of himself, and this is definitely one of those times.

“Yes, we are making progress. In fact, we are really close to being done here.” Louis can’t help but pay attention to the flutter in his chest at the thought of seeing Harry again. At one time it would have been dread, but now it’s just anticipation.

“You are almost finished with your client?”

“Not quite. Christopher is leaving for Milan in a week. There is a great deal that I can finish from home, and if I really push here, I will be able to leave when he does.” Harry sounds tired again. Christopher, his client is a hard worker, and expects no less from the people who work for him.

“Well, if anyone can do it, it’s you right?”

“Yeah, I can do it.” Harry says with certainty. “But, I am going to be really busy for the next few days. I mean, really pushing myself.” Harry fades off, and Louis isn’t quite sure what he is getting at until it suddenly clicks.

“Don’t worry about me H. Focus on what you need to do. It’s fine.” He tries to sound as sincere as possible. He hears Harry sigh on the other end.

“I promise when I get home we will do something fun. I’ll spoil you. Don’t make plans!” Harry suddenly sound rejuvenated, and Louis fears that Harry worrying about upsetting Louis weighed more heavily on his mind than it should have. Surely Harry would know that Louis would understand.

“Why don’t you go and get some rest. You sound like you need it, okay?” Louis says instead, not quite ready to deal with anything deeper.

“Yeah, sounds good. T….” Harry was going to say tomorrow, but cuts himself off. “Sweet dreams Lou. See you soon.” Louis hangs up, and smiles a little to himself.

“See you soon.” he whispers to no one.

The day drags for Louis. He is painfully aware of why that is. No texts, no anticipation of a call that evening. No Harry. When Liam wanders into his office close to dinner time, Louis jumps on the chance to go out to dinner. 

It turns out that Zayn is busy covering some of Harry’s more casual clients, and Liam has been spending more than a few nights alone. Louis can’t help but feel guilty for not noticing before now. Liam of course does not hold him accountable for it. Their friendship has been through a lot more than a few nights of missed communication. They settle in comfortably with their usual banter, and gossip about their lives.

“...so Zayn just can’t wait to get home.” Liam is telling Louis about a particularly difficult client of Harry’s that Zayn is dealing with when he suddenly shuts up like a clam. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to bring it up.” He mumbles into a bite of food. Louis glares at him through confused eyes.

“Bring up what?”

Liam smirks a little, a knowing look on his face. “You know. The H word.” Louis doesn’t change his expression. Liam sighs. “Harry, I didn’t mean to bring up Harry. I’m sorry.”

“Why wouldn’t you be allowed to mention Harry?” Louis is still completely confused, out of the loop possibly, he does not know.

“Well, last time I heard you mention his name, it was still quite the sore spot. I have been avoiding it ever since.” Liam looks flustered now that he knows that he is the one out of the loop. “You’ve gotten over him then?” What? Gotten over? What?

“What are you talking about?” He leans it, pressing the question towards Liam like a pointed finger to the chest.

“I don’t know Lou. The last time you two were together seemed kind of like the last straw. I thought it would take you a lot longer than this to get over what happened. I’m glad you are moving on.”

Liam shrugs like this is the end of the conversation, like he has it all figured out. And just no. Liam has no idea what he’s talking about. He wants to tell Liam exactly what he thinks of his attitude towards the wonderful, man that he’s just brushing off like last week’s bad date. Harry is more than just a guy that Louis wants to get over, or forget. Who in the hell does Liam think he is? Harry is not a person to just be dismissed from Louis’ life.

And then he realises that Liam knows absolutely nothing about the last three weeks. “You know Liam,” Louis starts, his voice as calm as he can school it. “It’s not nice to judge a person by one miserable day, or even week.”

“Well, I’m glad that you can look past your bad day with him. Maybe when he gets back, you guys can even work out some sort of truce.” Liam smiles, and Louis wants to slap it off of his face.

“I meant me you prat!” Louis raises his voice higher than necessary, startling Liam considerably. “I was the asshole that night. And I am lucky that Harry forgave me. I am lucky that he gave me the chance to redeem myself. And how dare you think that Harry Styles is just anyone that I would be happy to get rid of, or as you put it ‘move on from’. I’ll have you know that I talk with Harry every day, and the only reason I am here right now, and not sitting at home waiting for him to call is because he is too busy, so I am stuck with your condescending ass!” Oh shit, too far. He went a tad too far on that. Liam is a mix between hurt, and confused, and all Louis can do it get up, and hug his best friend.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I did not mean to say that out loud. You just surprised me.”

“ _ I _ surprised you?” Liam mocks. “What in the hell was that?”

“I don’t know! I have never got so fired up over...I don’t even know...whatever Harry and I are doing.” He sits back down, and runs a hand through his hair.

“What are you doing?” Liam doesn’t look any happier, Louis doesn’t feel any less guilty.

“Talking.” That is all he can say. That’s all he knows. And suddenly that is a bigger disappointment than Louis has admitted to himself up until this point.

“That’s it?” Liam asks, incredulously.

And yes, that’s it. But… the feeling hits Louis like a lightening bolt. The feeling that he didn't realise he has been waiting for.The feeling that that he now sees has been there for a while. He wants Harry. He cares about Harry… but  it doesn't have to be like that.

Louis suddenly stands, surprising Liam once more. “Liam, I have to go. I am so sorry for yelling, and bailing, and….I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Liam stands, still in stunned silence, but hugs Louis back anyway. Louis throws some cash on the table, and almost runs from the restaurant down Louis gets back to his flat as fast as his driver, and feet would take him. He wastes no time grabbing what he needs in his office, and sitting down in the plush, brown leather chair at his desk. He only takes a small moment of pure anticipation before he starts to write.

 

_ Harry,  _

_ I promised you a letter. I doubt this is what you had in mind, but it will have to do. Maybe someday I will write you a long letter that you probably deserve, but please say yes, and I can’t wait to see you soon. _

_ Yours, _

_ Louis _

He hastily stuffs the letter into an envelope along with his formal invitation to christmas dinner at the palace. He can tell Harry how he feels when Harry gets back to London, and they are face to face. The realisation that he will see Harry in a few days possibly makes his stomach whirl. Harry is the one, and he is ready for him.

  
  



	16. Chapter 16

All he gets in response a couple of days later is a simple :) via text. It’s enough to make Louis’ stomach swoop anyway. He will tell Harry how he feels when he sees him in person. 

It’s only three short days before his phone rings. Louis is in his office, and is having a rare busy day, so he doesn’t even look at the screen before he presses the answer button, just to shut up the noise of the ringer if nothing else.

“Louis Tomlinson.” He says briskly, still staring at the screen that he had been focusing on.

“Good afternoon M’Lord.” Louis is about to ask the person to kindly not call him Lord before he registers the voice.

“Harry! Hello!” His chest flutters with the name rolling off his tongue. “I told you not to call me that.” He admonishes him, with no actual bite in his voice.

“The way you answered the phone, I was just making sure you were paying attention.” Louis could hear the teasing. He smiles.

“I always pay attention to you.” He replies a little shyly, which isn’t helped by the sudden silence on the other end of the line. He quickly tries to cover it up by adding “Why are you calling? Shouldn’t you be rushing to get home?” He wills himself to slow down his heart.

“I’m home!” Harry’s voice sounds like a mix of excited, nervous, and smug. He has successfully pulled a fast one on Louis. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another two days at least. Or so Louis thought.

“What? In London?” His voice squeaks. Harry laughs heartily at this.

“Yeah, wasn’t really planned, and I still have a ton of work to do here, but I’m at my studio right now.”

“That’s great! I mean...for you. Right?” Louis is flustered. He can’t stop the spinning of his head. Harry is home, he can finally tell Harry how he feels.

“Yeah Lou. It is great. I, uh, I can’t wait to see you but…” Harry stutters to a stop, Louis doesn’t know what to do.

“What’s up?”

“I am still just as busy. I will practically be living in this place for a few weeks. I was wondering...if you would come visit me.” Is Harry being shy? Is he as nervous as Louis? Louis couldn’t even imagine it.

“Of course, now? Or when?” Louis asks, preparing to jump right out of his desk chair, no matter how busy he is.

“How about this evening. Around six. I am having dinner delivered. I can order you something.”

“Ok, that sounds great. I will see you at six. Welcome home Harry.”

“Thanks, see you soon.”

  
  
  


Louis is a bundle of nerves. He fiddles with the ship pendant hung around his neck as he walks towards the building where Harry’s work is housed. He would be lying if he said he didn’t spend far too much time on how he looked before he left the house. He is dressed in a pair of pitch black trousers, tight in all the right places, just how Harry seems to like, a white cotton shirt with a few buttons places at the top, for decoration Louis is sure, and a pair of black leather braces fitting snugly on his shoulders. None of those can be seen because of the dark blue pea coat that he has bundled up over his torso, but Harry will see, and that is all that really matters to him.

He takes a deep breath, and only pauses a moment before he opens the door to the studio, and lets the warm air curl around him. It seems quiet in the open space for a moment before he hears the booming voice of Harry echo through the air.

“Could you get the green Chanel from the rack near the door, love?” Louis freezes, confused. Harry surely wouldn’t have heard him come in, nevermind expect him to know what a green Chanel is. That is when a strange man starts rushing towards him, and apparently to the rack in question pulling out a belt as though he knew exactly where it was without question. He stops in front of Louis almost as an afterthought.

“Hello, can I help you?” The man asks in a pleasant voice with a touch of a french lilt.

“I am here to see Harry?” Louis more asks than tells. He is tempted to look around to make sure he is in the right building, but he knows that he is. The man’s face lights up even more, and sticks his hand out.

“Yeah! Louis right? I am Max!” Just as he says that, the deep voice starts to come closer to them.

“Max, did you not hear me? Oh.” He stops up short, and smiles bright. “Louis! I didn’t hear you!” Louis smiles back, expecting to take an armful of Harry, but Harry walks right on by, rifling through yet another rack full of clothes, and fabric.

“Well how could you Harold, you were too busy yelling at this poor chap.” Louis readjusts his body, hoping that no one notices the sudden discomfort he feels. This is most definitely not the greeting that he was expecting -or hoping for.

“This is Max, he came with me from Paris to help me finish up my work. He’s one of Christopher’s models. I said that I could use mannequins, but Christopher insisted that a live person would be best. He’s staying with me until we are finished.” Harry looks at Max as though they share a secret, and Max looks back with a slight flush to his cheeks. With every flick of Louis’ eyes back and forth between Harry, and this new man in Harry’s life, Louis’ stomach drops just that much more.

  
  
  


Louis eats his meal in peace. No one seems to notice because Harry and Max have not stopped talking since Louis walked into the building. He tries to keep up, he really does, but their conversation is littered with things like fabrics, and hemlines, and influences. He quickly resigned himself to keeping his mouth shut, only smiling and nodding when Harry looks at him. 

Harry is beaming. Every word that comes from his mouth is followed by a sparkle in his eye. His hands fly everywhere, barely touching his food. Louis has never actually seen him like this. Even in their conversations in the last few weeks haven’t showed Louis the kind of enthusiasm that he can hear in Harry’s voice in this moment. The problem is that he isn’t looking at Louis with this new look of love, and passion. He’s looking at Max.

The most disheartening part is that as soon as Max announces that he is done eating Harry starts packing up the take away packages, barely glancing at Louis to see if he’s finished. Barely looking at him at all. Louis quietly puts his fork down, and tosses his mostly uneaten food. He announces his need to leave to no one in particular and that seems to finally get Harry’s attention.

“It’s so good to see you.” Harry finally says as he walks Louis to the door, looking at Louis expectantly.

“Yeah, you too Haz.” He means it. It is good to see him. It’s good to see him happy. But he can’t get rid of the pang in his chest. He takes a deep breath. “So, Max.”

The blinding smile comes back full force. “Yeah, he’s brilliant. I’m so glad he was able to come with me.”

“He seems really...enthusiastic.” Louis says, glancing in the direction of the person in question. Max is staring back, not at Louis, but at Harry with a look that Louis could only describe as adoration. He sighs quietly, and turns back to Harry. “I should let your two get back to...whatever you were up to.” He waits for Harry to laugh, or blush, or even shake his head. He waits for Harry to call Louis out on his assumptions, but Harry just nods.

“You’re probably right. We have so much to do.” Max stands immediately as well, presumably waiting for instructions. Harry squeezes Louis’ arm once, giving him a smile before they are both off, leaving Louis to let himself out.

  
He gets a text late that night, or early morning, depending on how you look at it, asking if he would be willing to join him in the studio once again for dinner. He almost wants to say no, but he has no real reason. He sends a thumbs up emoji instead, and hopes that it’s enough.

“So are you a model,Louis?” Max asks over dinner. Him and Harry both look a lot more tired than the day before, but there’s just a spark of life in their eyes that hasn’t dimmed in the least. Louis turns up an eyebrow to Harry before he addresses Max.

“Uh, no.”

“Oh, sorry. Harry told me that you worked together, I guess I just assumed.” Max looks at him, then to Harry, then him again. There’s an awkward silence between the three of them.

“I guess Harry has told you about as much about me, as he has told me about you.” Louis blurts out, not really meaning to start something, but unable to comprehend how he has been so wrong about Harry, and the whole situation.

Max looks back down at his food, a flush spreading on his face. “I guess so.” He chews on his lips for a moment before he looks back up at Harry with a nervous look, but Harry isn’t looking at Max, he’s looking at Louis. Louis can’t decipher what he’s thinking, just knows that his stare makes Louis uncomfortable.

“So,” Max pipes in, breaking Louis away from Harry’s attention, “what  _ do _ you do?”

“I work for a charity.” Louis says. It’s clear that Max is waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t.

“Not really a job that would normally require a stylist.” Max replies a little more quietly. Louis tries not to roll his eyes, but he doesn’t quite have it in him tonight.

“He works for a very wealthy patron who has hired him to manage one of his vast, and affluent donations.” Harry offers. Max smiles brightly at Harry, because he always does.

“Who hires another person to manage a donation to a charity?” He smirks, looking towards Louis to laugh along with him, he doesn’t. “What does he think he is, the King of England?” He laughs at his own joke. Louis glares at Harry who is looking more and more uncomfortable.

Louis clears his throat, trying to unclench his hands that mysteriously formed into fist somewhere along the conversation. “He is.”

“He is what?” Max asks, looking between him and Harry, beaming grin ever present.

“The king of England? Max.” Harry replies, almost as though he were speaking to a child.

Max’s eyes widen dramatically. “You work for the king of England?” Louis just nods his head. Anyone within a ten kilometre radius could see how fake his smile is. “Wait, so have you actually met the king of England?”

“Yes Max.” Louis sighs out, “I have met the king of England, in fact, I have met him several times.”

Louis is actually not able to fathom that he means so little to Harry that this guys that he’s basically been spending every waking moment with, doesn’t know anything about him. Louis, the person who Harry has been trying to get to know, or so he pretended. Louis doesn’t know anything anymore.

“Well, that’s really cool, Louis. I would love to meet the royal family some day. I heard that the Prince's new step son is fit.”

“Okay, with that, I think it’s time for me to leave.” Louis stands, not even bothering to look at the confused face on Max, and the embarrassed look on Harry’s. He had clearly been wrong, and that is fine. He will get over it, but it’s not going to be tonight, and he doesn’t think that he can sit through any more of Max’s adoration towards Harry, and Harry pretending it’s all fine. It's not fine. Louis is not fine.

He endures a chaste kiss on his cheek from Harry on the way out the door, and tries to smile at Max who wishes him a distracted farewell, but is already trying to get Harry’s attention with talk of their work project. The car ride home, (at Harry’s request) is filled with memories of the past few weeks. The texts, the conversations, they didn’t mean a thing. Louis feels like a fool.

As he makes his way into his building, and his flat, he strains to remember any time in which they might have taken it farther, farther than friendship. He can’t remember Harry ever crossing that line. All of the memories start to turn bitter as his perspective shifts.  He lays in bed that night. There is no call this time, or text either. Louis had been right all along. It was just a game, and Louis had played right into it.

**

Harry feels like he hasn’t seen anything for the last month besides the inside of a studio, fabric, and half naked bodies. He loves it. But now he’s back home, and while he still has work on his brain, the knowledge that Louis is just a few Kilometres away is causing his attention to wander.

He’s been back in the UK for about a week now, working almost around the clock with Max. Max has been great, a gift really. A very chatty, very enamoured gift. Harry chuckles to himself when he sees how unsubtle Max has been. But he makes it very clear that their relationship is business only, and Max hasn’t tried to make it anymore than that either.

While being able to see Louis more is wonderful, he can’t help but feel a little twinge of...he doesn’t even want to call it disappointment. He really thought that they were getting somewhere when he was away for those weeks. He hate to be vain, but he was actually expecting a bit of a different greeting when he returned, but Louis has been nothing but platonic the few times that he has managed to snag him away from work. If anything, Harry can’t help but feel that Louis is pulling away again, and he wishes that he could investigate, or change it, or at least give Louis the attention that he deserves, but he’s still  _ just so busy. _

He thinks about the dinner that Louis had formally invited him to. Christmas dinner at the palace. Louis wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t feel something for Harry, he is sure of it. And by then Harry will be free of this monstrous project, and then he will have time to give Louis the time he deserves.

“Harry,” Max breaks him out of his daze. He smiles up at the man on the stage, dressed in one of their last looks. “How do I look?”

“You’ll do.” Harry responds with a cheeky grins. Max knows exactly how he looks. He could probably do Harry’s job as well as he does it himself, but Max is still young, and making his living the way he loves, so he just nods, and preens under the compliment.

“I am leaving in a few days.” Max pushes on. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out...and celebrate.” He flushes slightly, looking at his hands, fascinated by his nail beds suddenly.  “Or something.”

“Um, yeah. Sure Max. What did you have in mind?”

“Club? A bit of drinking, a bit of dancing?” Max starts to wiggle his hips to a song that much only been in his head, Harry laughs at the scene, and nods.

“Sure, sounds good. Do you mind if I invite some friends?” He’s already reaching for his phone, but doesn’t miss the slight drop in Max’s expression.

“Yeah, friends are good. The more the merrier right?” Harry gives him a grateful look, and dials Louis’ number first.

  
They arrive at the club by ten that evening. It’s a Thursday, so it’s not completely empty, but there is definitely room to move. He doesn’t recognize any of the faces lingering around the bar, and dance floor so him and Max go find a drink, and a table, and wait. 

“Are your friends not coming?” Max asks after about five minutes of small talk.

“Yes, they will be here.” Harry replies. There is no escaping the look of disappointment on Max’s face this time. “Look Max. You have been a great person to work with. And I am so glad that you picked up your entire life for a few weeks to help me….” The word  _ but _ freezes on his lips because there is a hand on his shoulder, and he just knows that it’s Louis’. He looks up, and sees Louis looking at him. He can decipher the expression. His face is smiling, but his eyes are dark. Not angry, not unkind, just focused. He stands up to give Louis a proper hug, and wants to melt into the feeling of Louis in his arms. But Louis pulls away, and Harry takes a step back to give him his space. He just wishes that he didn’t need it.

“So,” Louis says when he sits down beside Harry. “Just the three of us?”

“Zayn said that him and Liam would join us.” Harry replies, feeling nervous, and wishing he didn’t. This is Louis, he’s got this. He knows what he’s doing. Louis just nods, and looks around like he’s looking for something. Harry can’t help but wonder if it’s an escape.

The volume of the room isn’t the only thing that increases as the night progresses. Liam and Zayn show arrive attached at the hip as they seem to have been lately. They barely look at anything besides one another. Louis isn’t saying a whole lot either. As much as Harry tries to engage him in conversation, he’s either being interupted by Louis’ sudden need for a drink, or more often, Max. Harry can barely sit down without Max trying to sneak onto his lap, and he is starting to run out of reasons to try to be polite to him about it.

“Max.” Harry says a little loudly so he doesn’t have to get too close to Max’s ear. “Why don’t you go dance.”

“Not unless you come with me?” Max purrs back, trying to run his hand up Harry’s thigh. Harry jumps back before he reaches his crotch, but Max just laughs. “Come on H, have a little fun with me. I will be gone tomorrow.” Max slinks his arms back around Harry’s neck when Harry stands again, trying to get away from Max’s touch.

“I’m sorry Max, I tried to give you a hint, but you aren’t getting it. I’m not interested in you. You need to stop. You are making me uncomfortable.” He is sure that he isn’t the only one that Max is making uncomfortable. He glances around their small group to see Liam, and Zayn looking on in disinterest, and Louis….

“Liam, where’s Louis?” Harry asks, effectively pushing Max out of his personal space.

“Ummm.” Liam replies with a guilty look on his face “He just left. He said something about eating something funny?”

_ Fuck _ .

“When did he leave?”

“He just walked out. He said bye, you must have missed it.”

_ Fuck fuck fuck. _  He runs towards the exit looking for any sign of Louis. He makes it a block before he gives up, and slowly makes his way back to the club. He tries to tell himself that Louis would know better than to think that Max was anything to him, he tries to tell himself that it didn’t have anything to do with Louis leaving. But he’s not stupid. “Fuck!” He says out loud before he walks back into the building.

He pulls out his phone, and dials Louis’ number. It goes straight to voicemail, so he leaves a text instead.

_ Hope you’re alright? _

**I’ll be fine**

_ I was hoping we would have a chance to talk _ .

**Maybe another time.**

That time does not come. Not immediately anyway. Between calls, texts, and even a few third party conversations through Liam, and Zayn, Louis has been all but impossible to spend time with. Every time it’s the same. He’s busy, he isn’t avoiding Harry at all, everything is fine. Harry wants to believe him so much that he hurts with it.

“Hey Lou.” Harry says into the phone. He got Louis’ voicemail...again. “I just wanted to know if you were available to come over tonight….But you must be busy still.” He pauses, wondering if he should leave it at that, or finally spill his guts, and just say everything he has wanted to say over the last couple of weeks. He sighs. “I guess I will just see you at dinner tomorrow. Can’t wait Lou. Bye.” He hangs up, and throws himself onto the couch, face first. 

  
  


Harry tugs on the crisp white cuff of his silk shirt one last time as he waits for the car to pick him up and take him to the palace. He can’t even think of the word without getting a lump in his throat. Not only is this an opportunity to spend some actual quality time with Louis, but it is also a huge honour to meet the royal family in such a setting as this. He will be forever grateful to Louis for giving him this opportunity. 

He feels guilty to admit it, but he is actually relieved that Louis will be forced to spend some time with him. He feels like this is his chance to be able to talk to him, show him how he feels finally.

When he arrives there are people bustling everywhere, mostly staff though, and he’s quickly whisked off to a smaller room where he sees a few people who he recognises, if not actually knows. He scans the room for the familiar face that he is looking for, and is swiftly rewarded. Louis is standing in the corner talking to a young lady who Harry is quite sure is Louis’ sister.

Louis looks stunning. He is wearing a three piece suit. Black trousers, black jacket, and black vest over a shirt that may look white at first glimpse, but is actually a fine baby blue pin stripe. Harry knows this because he chose that shirt for Louis. Tailored it specifically to his body. Knowing that Louis has chosen that shirt, that entire ensemble sends sparks running up and down his spine. Suddenly he realises the the object of his fixation is staring directly back at him. He smiles, and receives a smile back. A small one, a distant one. But it’s a smile. He makes his way over.

“This is amazing Louis.” Harry says in way of a greeting, kissing him affectionately on the cheek before turning to the person who Louis was just talking to. “Hello, I am Harry.” He says, and sticks his hand out.

“Charlotte.” He’s greeted with a smile that is different, but at the same time so familiar that he could spot it anywhere.

“Louis’ sister I presume?”

“One of them. Nice to meet you Harry. I must find my mother, they will be announcing guests soon.” And then she’s gone, and Harry can feel the weight of being left alone with Louis. He realises that the last time they were left in private conversation they were in separate countries. And before that...it didn’t go so well. How has so much changed, yet nothing at all has changed, he wonders.

He turns, and gives his full attention to Louis, who has adopted the same stance as he did in the club less than a week ago. A caged cat, looking for a quick escape. It hurts to think that Harry is the reason. While Louis looks anywhere but at Harry, Harry tries to think of something, anything to say to put him at ease.

“Thank you for inviting me. This is amazing.” He says finally, softly.

“You didn’t have to come.” Is the response he gets, and it breaks his heart.

“I wanted to come. I want to be here. Listen, Louis…” He doesn’t get to finish his thought because suddenly a staff member is calling them to form a line so they can be introduced into the room. A stuffy old formality, but who is Harry to argue with Royal traditions. He will just have to finish this conversation at dinner.

 

The dinner is just a series of unfortunate events. Harry is placed across the table from Louis as opposed to beside him like he hoped, like he assumed he would be. This isn’t helped by Louis’ insistence on speaking in length to everyone within earshot of him. Everyone but Harry that is. He has to all but shout just to get Louis to even spare a glance at him, and then he is off again to find someone else to drone on to. He thought they were past this. 

When the meal is over, and everyone is left to mingle, Louis is immediately gone. Harry couldn’t even imagine where he would be in order to follow, and if he’s being honest with himself, he probably shouldn’t anyway. It’s obvious that Harry is the one who Louis is escaping from.

He finally sees a friendly face, and instantly latches on. “Niall!”

“Hello friend, so good to see you! Finally came out of your dungeon!” Niall holds him tight, and much longer than necessary, but Harry couldn’t imagine breaking away.

“I am finished with the contract, I haven’t booked anything until after the new year.” He responds, and realises that it’s the first time anyone has even asked him his Christmas plans. He suddenly finds himself very homesick, and lonely. He links back into Niall’s embrace, who is thrown off for just a moment because he hugs him again, tight, and firm.

“Well, it’s good to see you. Maybe I will stick around for a few weeks.”

“What are your Christmas plans?” Harry asks. Niall shrugs.

“Your’e looking at it. This is the one weekend that we all are in the same place. We make the most of it. After tomorrow, I am a free bird once again.”

“Maybe we should go somewhere. Make a proper holiday of it.” Harry suggests, almost pleads.

“Well, yeah. We could.” Niall says hesitantly. “What about….” Harry knows what he’s about to say, and begs with his eyes for Niall to just now say it. “What about your mum?”

“In New York with Gemma. We could go to America. Do some skiing even.” He pleads once more.

“Skiing is no good for the knee Haz, but I will definitely think about it. Why don’t we go mingle.” Niall now has a legitimate look of concern on his face, but Harry pulls back.

“I actually think I am going to head home. I am dead on my feet.” He fake yawns. What has his life come to?

Niall shifts a quick glance behind Harry’s back, and Harry can almost feel it. The eyes on him, that stare that is so intense, but at the same time, almost cold. He looks back, and finds exactly what he suspected.

“You sure Haz?” Niall asks, not taking his eyes off of Louis.

“Yeah, I am sure. Let me know about Christmas alright?” He starts to pull away, walking towards the nearest exit.

“Sure, I will keep in touch.” Niall says, softer this time.

He spares a quick glance back, just one more time. Two sets of eyes on him. One sad, and confused, the other just sad.

  
He lays in bed that night feeling defeated. He didn’t get his chance to explain. He didn’t get his chance to tell Louis how he really feels. It’s obvious that Louis just isn’t interested. Even if he was upset about what he thought happened between him and Max, if he cared, he would want an explanation, wouldn’t he? Harry would take the yelling, the snarky comments, the dirty looks over Louis just trying to avoid him completely. It feels different.

It feels like it’s over.

He picks up his phone from the nightstand. He wonders if he should just cut all ties, say it was nice but they don’t have to pretend. Louis doesn’t have to pretend, that is. Because Harry doesn’t have to force his feelings at all. He wonders if he should just make it easier for Louis, and tell him that he’s not interested, because he certainly can’t go back to whatever it was before he fell for Louis. He’s not that good at hiding his feelings. Louis should know that by now.

No sooner does he type out just that message does he erase it all, furiously hitting the backspace . He’s not ready to say goodbye. Not tonight. He starts typing again. Just because he hates himself.

_ Thank you again for inviting me tonight. Sorry I didn’t say goodbye before I left. _

He doesn’t wait for a reply. Doesn’t even know if he wants to think about whether Louis will actually text back. He almost hopes he doesn’t.


	17. Chapter 17

“Come out with me Harry!” Niall blasts over the phone. They have been talking for nearly half an hour, and the volume on Niall has just been steadily increasing. 

“It sounds dreadful. The Saturday before Christmas, every club will be packed solid.” Harry moans. He can hear Niall sigh loudly.

“I know a place, it will be quiet, probably only us there.”

“Oh, so some dump that no one wants to be at. Sounds just as appealing.” Harry scrunches his nose, and burrows further into his couch.

“Oh my God, stop being such a diva.” Niall scolds. “It’s a good place, it’s almost Christmas, and I want to have a bit of fun before everyone gets sucked back into the country for a few weeks.

“Ugh, who’s going.” Harry replies. He is pouting, he knows this, but as he starts pulling at his lip he notices a distinct lack of noise coming from the other end of the line. “Ni, who's going out?”

“Oh, just a small group. Me, you...Liam, Zayn and, uh, Louis.”

“cough cough I can’t go. I’m sick” Harry responds, as sarcastically as he can muster.  Louis hadn’t even texted him back from the night of the dinner. Didn’t even bother to pretend. Harry has been trying to put him out of his mind ever since.

“Please, you’re no mean girl H. Just come and have some fun.”

“I’d really rather not, you go and have fun. I will just be a wet blanket anyway.” Harry makes one last plea.

“Okay, so I will be around by nine to come get you. Don’t dress too nice. This is just a laid back place.” Niall says before he hangs up. Harry knows he’s not getting out of it now.

  
  
As promised Niall does show up before nine. He walks straight into the flat, grabs Harry’s coat, and ushers him out the door. They arrive by car, just the two of them not twenty minutes later. The warm air seeps under Harry’s collar immediately after walking into the dimly lit, and moderately full space. 

“A karaoke bar.” Harry states. It’s not a question. There are a group of three women belting out an unbalanced, but enthusiastic version of Single Ladies right in front of Harry. Niall smiles, and claps him on the back.

“Unclench H, get yourself a drink.” He says, tipping his head towards the bar. “Get me one while you’re there.” He tacks on before he makes his way to an empty table near the front of the stage. Harry sighs, and does what he’s told.

Harry finds it almost impossible to relax, or “unclench” as Niall so eloquently put it. Every scrape of a chair, and cry of a voice that’s near Louis’ register sends Harry swinging his head around looking for his faceand Niall’s companion for the evening. Niall is being of little comfort, barely taking his eyes off his phone between sips of his cocktail that he didn’t even want.

“Ugh, what is this shit?” Niall winces as he takes another sip of his brightly coloured concoction. Harry shrugs.

“You asked me to get you a drink.” He quips, taking a larger gulp of his matching drink. “You should have been more specific.” 

“Hey, don’t get snippy with me because you can’t get your love life straight.” Niall replies, then immediately laughs at his unintentional joke. “ Straight.” He chuckles to himself. Harry can only roll his eyes.

“Not that it is any of your business, but I do not in fact have a love life.” Harry replies, nose slightly raised in indignation. Niall simply snorts.

“And who’s fault is that? Louis?” Niall folds his arms, leaning back as though he’s waiting for a good long story.

“Please, leave Louis out of this.” He grumbles back, slumping into himself.

“Leave Louis out of what?” a voice pipes up behind him, dangerously close.  _ Fuck _ . If the earth decided to open up, and swallow Harry right about now, he wouldn’t at all object.

Louis is standing alone, a bottle of beer gripped tightly in each hand. His entire body screams of unease, and discomfort.

“Um, nothing, nothing at all. Niall was just talking about…” Harry scrambles for something, anything. “Karaoke...” he practically shouts. “Niall wants to sing.” He adds, trying to make it sound genuine.

“Oh, well…” Louis shifted hi gaze between the two men seated, “I wouldn’t be opposed, I guess.” He doesn’t make a move to join them though, and Harry hastily makes space for him at the table, silently inviting him to sit. He does so delicately, not making eye contact at all. Harry has never felt more distant to him. Louis telling him off was better than this.

“I’m glad you could make it Tommo.” Niall says, ignoring Harry’s inner turmoil. “I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything important.”

Harry gives him a look fitting of the traitor he is. He wasn’t given that consideration when he was “invited” to this evening out.

“No, just a bit of work.” Louis replies. “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Harry matches his look to Niall with one for Louis. In all of the times Harry has asked him to take time to see Harry, he was always too busy with work, but for Niall, it can wait. That pretty much confirms Harry’s suspicion Louis is avoiding him. He knew and yet, it still stings. He takes a gulp of his drink to sooth himself. He’s here, he might as well take advantage.

Liam, and Zayn soon join them. The drinks are flowing, laughter is easy, and no one seems to notice that two of the table’s inhabitants haven’t uttered a word to each other all night. In fact, Harry notices that Louis hasn’t really said much of anything, just smiling, and nodding. And asking if anyone wants anything at the bar when he frequently gets up to refresh himself. No one else seems to have caught onto this, or else they decided to let him be anyway. But either way Harry doesn’t think it’s his place to bring it up.

At least he’s pleasantly buzzed, and can feel his shoulders start to relax. No one has actually brought up the singing again, but Harry is starting to get restless, and falsely brave.

“I want to sing!” He announces to the table a little too loudly. There is a collective groan all around, and he does his best to give them all a dirty look, but can’t stop the smile that is entirely the the cocktails’ fault. “Come on. One each. Let's do it.” He coaxes. Mostly to Niall, because he’s the ringleader of this little get together. He adds a pointed look in his direction to remind him of this.

“One song.” Niall sighs, knowing when he’s defeated. Harry cheers loudly getting him another collective groan that he poignantly ignores.

“Alright, I need to wee, everyone think of their song.” He says as he stands, and makes his way to the entrance of the bar, opposite the stage.

He didn’t think he was gone that long, but when he gets back to the table it’s mostly cleared, and they are short a person. He stops in his tracks, trying to keep the instant sense of panic off his face. He clears his throat as he sits back down. 

“Um, we seem to be missing someone. Did he have to take off?” Niall looks confused for a moment, but then his face clears.

“Oh, ah, no. We did rock paper scissors, and Louis lost.” Niall smirks. Harry assumes it’s at Harry’s reaction. He tilts his head, and Harry follows the direction.

He sees the stage, and it’s empty. Then it isn’t. Louis is standing in the center, looking as alone as Harry feels. A single microphone in front of him, as though he’s trying to hide behind it. Harry is instantly enthralled by the look of trepidation, and almost pain on his face. Then the music starts, and Louis opens his mouth.

_ We keep behind closed doors _

_ Everytime I see you I die a little more _

_ Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls _

_ It’ll never be enough _

Harry freezes. Louis’ eyes are closed, as he curls his fist around the mic, leaning in close to it.

_ As you drive me to my house _

_ I can’t stop these silent tears from rolling down _

_ You and I both have to hide on the outside _

_ Where I can’t be yours and you can’t be mine _

Then Louis looks up, looks at him. Harry can feel every hair on his body stand up, every vein pulse. He can almost hear his heart break.

_ But I know this _

_ We’ve got a love that is hopeless _

_ Why can’t I hold you on the street _

_ Why can’t I kiss you on the dance floor _

_ I wish that it could be like that _

_ Why can’t it be like that _

_ ‘Cause I’m yours _

Harry can’t move as Louis picks his way through the song, never moving at all except to sing into the mike, never taking his unwavering eyes off of Harry. Harry can feel the rest of the boys’ eyes on him, but he can’t stop himself. He can only see one thing. And that is the shimmer of tears that are unshed in the corners of Louis’ eyes as he sings the last chorus

_ Why can’t we be like that? _

_ Wish we could be like that….. _

Then he walks off. Doesn’t wave, doesn’t smile, doesn’t look at Harry again. He is gone into the shadows, and before Harry knows it, out the door. He looks around frantically, catching Niall’s eye who looks at him sympathetically. He almost knocks over the chair, rushing towards the door.

  
Louis slams the door of his flat harder than remotely necessary, and leans up against it with a thud to his back. When he looks back on this night, and wants to die, like he feels now, he is going to remind himself that it was the alcohol. 

He wipes his eyes one more time, trying to forget the look of panic on Harry’s face when he was singing….God...singing to him. What in the hell was he thinking? It’s probably effective at least. There is no way Harry is going to want to be anywhere near him now after that spectacle. At least he will be allowed to get over him in peace.

He’s actually done himself a favour, he convinces himself as he shuffles to the kitchen for a large glass of water. He will admit that his eyes linger on the bottle of wine, chilling in the fridge, but slams the door shut, mentally slapping his own hands away from it.

But no sooner does he do that, then someone is buzzing to come up to his flat. He considers just ignoring the noise, hoping whoever it is will take the hint, and bugger off. Then, suddenly his phone starts to ring. He isn’t getting out of it he guesses. He grabs it from his jacket pocket, and flicks the button quickly.

“Yes?” He sighs, not even caring how annoyed he sounds. There is a pause on the other end. Louis’ forehead creases. “Hello?” He tries again.

“Hey.” The unmistakable voice replies. Harry.

“Oh.” He says. He has no idea what else to say. Harry is not who he expected to be calling right now.

“Can I come up?” He asks. He sounds serious, almost solemn. His confusion makes way to panic really quickly.

“You are here?”

“Yeah, I rang.” Harry says.

“Oh.” Louis says again. He’s frantically searching around the flat as though the answer to Harry’s question is going to magically appear.

“It’s getting kinda cold out here.” Harry says into his ear, and it snaps him out of his bubble for just a moment. Long enough to take some sort of action.

“Oh, of course. Come on up.” Louis says, and pushes the security button by the door. His hands are clammy, and he’s still clinging to the phone at his ear like it’s a lifeline.

“I am at the door.” Harry breaks the silence again. “I am going to hang up now.” There is a click, and then a soft knock. Louis knowing it was coming doesn’t stop him from jumping at the sound in the otherwise silent space.

He opens the door, and there he stands. Just like he said he would be. Louis just stares until Harry clears his throat gently, asking silently to be let in. Louis moves away from the door, and immediately to the kitchen for a cup of tea. He needs to do something with his hands.

“Tea?” he asks over his shoulder. Not daring to see what Harry is doing, where he is standing, where he is looking.

“Yes, please.” Harry says again.

Louis nods, and gets to work, putting so much concentration in what he’s doing, one would think he was competing for a medal in tea making. When he is done, and can do absolutely nothing else, he sets both of the mugs down on the table. Taking great interest in what is inside his own cup.

“Louis.” Harry says, sitting beside him, in front of his cup. “Are you going to look at me?” Louis responds by squeezing his eyes shut tight.

“I’m sorry about tonight.” He says. “That was...crossing a line.”

“Louis, please.” Harry pleads, sounding almost desperate. “Please just look at me.” Louis forces his eyes up. It takes everything in his power to meet Harry’s eyes, and what he sees is pain, laced with a little bit of hope. Harry smiles when they are finally eye to eye. “That song, you, did you mean it?”

“Mean it? I was drunk.” Louis is shaking his head, trying to deny that it even happened.

“No, you sang a song about love, and you sang it to me.” Harry leans in close, as close as he can get while still sitting. “You sang that for me. I need to know if you meant it. Do you...wish that we could?” He’s almost quoting the song, and under any other circumstance it would sound ridiculous, but to Louis’ mind, to his state of mind, it’s like a dagger to the heart.

“I’m sorry.”  He says, not being able to keep eye contact anymore. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Tell me you want it Louis, please just say the words.” Harry says again.

Louis nods once. “I want it. I want you. You’re all I want.” Suddenly He’s being kissed, hot, and hard. He gasps, and pulls back, searching Harry’s face for an answer, for something. “I thought.”

“God, I have no idea what you thought, but I have wanted you for months. Months, Lou. I have been waiting. I wish, I wish… no. It doesn’t matter.” He says, kissing him again. Louis is in shock. He has no idea what is happening right now, but Harry’s mouth is on him, and it’s all he has been dreaming of. So he kisses him back trying to convey all he’s unable to say.Harry wraps his arm around his back, and pulls him up so they are standing toe to toe, every part of their bodies flush.

Harry finally breaks the kiss, trailing smaller ones down Louis’ cheeks, and neck. “Harry, God. How did this happen?”

“I don’t know. I came back from France, and you were...distant. I thought things had changed for the better, but you seemed to pull away. I tried to tell you how I felt, but you wouldn’t…”

“You came home with Max.” Louis says, and he doesn’t mean to sound accusatory, but it’s like an icecube down their backs. Harry pulls away, a look of concern etched in his face.

“Max was work.”

“I was work.”

“You were never just a job to me Louis, you must know that.” Harry says, cupping Louis’ face. Louis can’t help but lean into it.

“I was a game to you. I thought the game was over. That you got what you wanted, and grew tired.” He replies, looking at his feet, and Harry’s chest heaving in front of him. Harry tips his head back, looking him in the eye once again.

“This is not a game.” Harry says fiercely. “You are no game. I want you. I...God…” Harry kisses him again, like he’s making a point. “I love you Louis. I have never felt for anyone the way I feel for you.”

“You love me?” Louis asks, feeling entirely out of his depth. He wants to cling to this moment forever, but at the same time, feels the claustrophobic need for space. He takes a step back, trying to regain control of his limbs. He can’t miss the look of hurt on Harry’s eyes from the break in contact.

“I really do.” Louis can hear the unspoken apology in his words, and it’s all wrong.

“I love you too.” Louis says, voice quiet, but he keeps his eyes steady.

“You…?”

“Yeah. I was going to tell you at the dinner. Make a big romantic gesture. But it felt like everything went wrong once you came back. There was Max, and you just didn't seem that interested in me at all. I thought I got it wrong. I thought I misread the signs.”

“Wow, we are really not good at this, are we?” Harry runs a hand through his hair, but he’s smiling, finally.

“I guess not.” Louis replies, feeling his smile spread across his own face. They stay like that for a few moments, just staring at each other like idiots before Harry shuffles his feet nervously.

“So why are you over there?” He asks, talking about the distance that Louis had put between him.

“I can’t think when you are touching me.” Louis says, without even thinking. It makes Harry smile harder, which wasn’t the reaction he was aiming for, but won’t turn down.

“Do you need to be thinking right now?” Harry asks, teasing in his tone.

“I actually don’t think I need to think about anything at all at the moment.” Louis replies, and he barely gets the sentence out when Harry is in his space, kissing him again. This time Louis reciprocates, letting the static settle onto his mind.

  
They are sitting on the couch an hour later. Not much talking between them, just a lot of kissing, and touching. A lot of smiling. Louis could barely tell where he ended, and Harry began. 

“So what were you going to say?” Harry breaks the silence, trailing his nose delicately up Louis’ cheek.

“Hm?” Louis asks, distracted by the ever moving touch from Harry’s fingers.

“At the Christmas dinner. You said you were going to make a grand gesture. What were you going to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It was stupid.” Louis blushes, remembering exactly what he was going to say. So much seems to have changed since then.

“I doubt it was stupid. Nothing you ever say is stupid, Lou. I think we should just say it all now. No more secrets. No more keeping things to ourselves.”

“Ugh, fine.” Louis twists so he’s facing Harry, and takes his hand. Harry smiles at Louis’ indulgence, and Louis can’t help but smile fondly back. “Harry, in many ways I feel like I know you. I feel like I have never known anyone as well in my life as I know you. But in other ways you are such a mystery to me, and every day I learn something new, and wonderful about your life, about your nature, about your personality. You are constantly changing my mind about who you are, and it’s for the better, every time. I can’t imagine ever wanting to spend another day not learning about who you are, and showing you that I am worthy of your company. I hope you feel the same, because I have fallen for you.” When he finishes Harry just stares, a mist in his eyes, body frozen.  “That is what I was going to say.” He says a little more quietly.

“Wow Lou. Thought you were going to propose for a moment.” Harry teases, but Louis knows it’s a defence. He’s trying to compose himself.

“Fuck off.” He replies affectionately. “What were you going to say to me?” Harry opens his mouth to reply, but he doesn’t speak. Louis raises a brow in question. “Come on, confession time.”

“I, ah, didn’t really have anything I was going to say.”

“I see.” Louis replies, but it’s with a smirk. “Just going to waltz in with a ‘honey, I’m home’ and expect me to fall to my knees for you?”

“I assumed..” Harry says, trying to redeem himself, but Louis is on a roll.

“Assumed that I was just so gone for you that I wouldn’t need a declaration. Yeah, I get it. I’m weak.” He says a little too loud. Harry latches onto him, shutting him up with a kiss.

“ _ I _ ’m weak.” Harry says. “This is my declaration. I am weak for you. I was blinded by you, by my feelings for you. I am weak, and you are strong, and I will never get off my knees for you. Literally, and in my heart.”

“Well that seems like a fit declaration.” Louis says, trying to swallow away his suddenly dry throat.

“Thank you.” Harry says, then smirks. “Are you picturing me on my knees for you?”

“No.” Louis responds, surprising Harry. “I am picturing me on my knees for you.”

“Fuck” Harry groans, pulling Louis in for another kiss. This one desperate, needy. “Is it too soon?” Harry asks, already reaching for Louis’ quickly hardening cock.

“No,” Louis replies, unbuttoning Harry’s jeans hastily. Harry moves in closer allowing them to shift down on his hips. Louis wastes no time pushing his hands down, grabbing for a handful of warm flesh.

“Can we go to the bedroom?” Harry asks. Louis groans into his mouth, but stands up, and pulls Harry up to get them there faster. Harry easily goes, but suddenly Louis freezes in front of him.

“What’s that?” He asks, pointing down to Harry’s thigh. Harry looks down too, and flushes slightly. He has forgotten about it...almost.

“A tattoo.” Harry replies, sounding dumb to his own ears.

“Brazil.” Louis says, reading the small word printed there.

“Yeah.”

“Is it?” Louis looks at him pleadingly “Was it because of…?” He doesn’t ask if it’s for him, he doesn’t have to.

“Yeah.” Harry breathes, more affected than he was when he got the thing. Louis launches himself at Harry again, pushing him towards the back room.

They tumble onto the bed, mouths attached, hands scrambling to remove clothing. It is a chaos that makes sense only to them, and they are quickly naked, feeling skin on skin. The glide across each other’s bodies, and get to know one another again. Harry rolls his shoulders over Louis so he is hovering over him. Louis goes pliant, letting Harry maneuver them both into a comfortable position. Louis is both happy to stay in this position forever, but at the same time he wants more, so much more.

“Do you need me baby?” Harry moans into his ear. “Want me to take care of you?”

“Yeah, please yes.” Louis replies quickly, there is no room for modesty, or dignity. He is desperate for Harry’s touch, and he feels like his body has been craving it since the last time, and the last time was so, so long ago.

Harry starts to move down his body, kissing, and grabbing, pulling, and pushing. Louis ends up on his belly, legs spread to allow Harry to kneel in between them. “God, you’re a sight. I could look at this all day. I could touch this all day.” Harry runs a hand up Louis’ ass, dipping a dry thumb tip over the edge of his hole. Louis jumps at the touch, but chuckles. “Always so sensitive.” The next time the finger brushes over him, it’s wet with lube, but Louis reacts just as enthusiastically, groaning into the pillow. “Yeah, that’s it.” Harry says, almost to himself. Harry isn’t slow with his fingers, pushing Louis open, almost methodically, but it’s effective, hitting Louis all the right ways. Suddenly, they are gone, and Louis pushes up, looking for the contact again. “Don’t move, baby.” Harry says, putting a hand on his back to steady him. Louis stills, listening to Harry’s deep breaths as he put a condom on himself. He almost cries out in relief when Harry enters him. “Yeah, that’s right, wanna hear you.” Harry says, breathless already.

“Feel so good Harry, fuck I want this.” Louis whines.

“Want this, want you.” Harry says, thrusting deeper, more steady. Louis starts to meet his every thrust, and takes himself into his hand, it causes almost an instant sense of needing orgasm. “Not yet.” Harry says, slowing down. He must have sensed Louis’ need.

“Can’t.” Louis pants, not being able to starve off the feeling in his gut. “Can’t H, please.” He pleads.

“Okay, alright.” Harry says, picking up the pace. “Come baby. God, you are so beautiful like this, begging for me. Needing me.”

“I do need you, always. Only you.” Louis cuts off because he’s coming, hard and fast.

“Yes yes yes, mine. Only mine.”

Harry grips Louis’ hips, and pounds down into him one, two, three times, and is coming with a shout, pushing Louis even further into the mattress. He feels spent, numb almost, like he’s floating on air, like the weight of his own body isn’t making a dent in the sheets below him. Harry curls around his back as Louis stretches his legs straight, not moving much of anything else.

“I love you. I love you so much.” Harry says into Louis’ back, kissing him gently. Louis rolls slowly onto his side, facing Harry. He can’t wipe the smile from his face. Harry has a similar one on his.

“I can’t wrap my head around it.” He says sleepily. “Love.”

“You don’t believe me?” Harry asks, but he’s smiling.

“I believe you. It’s just...I didn’t think I would ever hear it. This has been a wild night.” He chuckles as Harry pulls him into an all encompassing embrace.

“It has, but could you imagine it any other way?”

“I really can’t.” Louis says, closing his eyes, letting exhaustion take him.

  
  
  


When Louis wakes once again the room is still dark, but he can see the gray light of dawn start to seep into the sky. His body feels heavy, and when he stretches, his foot glides down the stubbled leg of Harry who feels, and sounds like he’s still sleeping. He shifts so that he’s face to face with him, and can feel the pleasant dull ache all over his body. He smiles at the feeling as well as the memory.

The movement wakes Harry, and he glides his eyes down his own body, and up Louis’ until they are eye to eye. His face is blank, but his eyes are intense, and focused. They stay like that for a moment before Louis feels like he needs to squirm under the scrutiny.

“What’s wrong?” Louis asks, hating how small his voice sounds. Hating this oh so familiar feeling of insecurity around Harry once again.

“Nothing.” Harry is quick to respond, but Louis shakes his head, and kisses him.

“Not nothing. I want to know.”

Harry sighs, and averts his gaze. “This is just usually the time that you come to your senses and decide that I am a horrible person again.” Louis feels a cold shock surge right through his body. Of all of the things that he pictured Harry saying, this was just about the opposite.

“I decide?” He starts, not being able to fully form a thought. “That you are a horrible person?” He even almost expects Harry to deny it, saying that Louis had misheard him, but Harry just shrugs, and keeps his eyes averted.

“That seems to be the pattern. You hate me, I somehow convince you not to hate me, we have sex, and then you hate me again. Rinse and repeat.” Louis suddenly sits up, and wraps his arms around his legs. He thinks back to the few times that him and Harry have been together.

The pattern fits. Louis feels the drop in his stomach like a lead ball being dropped from the tower of London. He looks at Harry who is watching him intently, not upset, or sad. Just watching. “Is this what you thought would happen this morning?” He asks.

“I thought I would take my chance.” Harry replies, which basically tells Louis what he wanted to know.

“So you knew there was a chance that this would turn out like all of the other times that we have been together, and you were willing to risk that?”

“I was. I am.” Harry sits as well, and reaches out gently for Louis’ hand. Louis gives it willingly. The touch instantly soothes him. Harry’s hand is warm, and dry, and he rubs tiny circles into Louis’ palm with his thumb.

“I never meant to hurt you Harry. I’m so sorry.  I have been so selfish.”

“I have too.” Harry speaks quietly, and slowly. Focusing his eyes on their jointed limbs. “I pushed you. I let us do things when you weren’t ready. Then I messed it all up by assuming that you would always come back to me. I should have tried harder.” Louis huffs out a small chuckle at this.

“You should have dumped my ignorant ass, and found someone who appreciates you.” Harry does look up at this, and he smiles.

“Like Max?” Harry suddenly says, and Louis groans, and throws himself back down in bed. Harry settles back down too, but doesn’t let go of his hand. “What? Too soon?”

“Max definitely wouldn’t have walked out on you every time you had sex.” The mere thought of Harry in bed with Max makes him want to vomit. He doesn’t know how close he was to losing Harry to him, and he doesn’t know if he wants to find out.

“I don’t want Max. Never did.” Harry replies, suddenly serious once again. “I want you.”

“I want you too.” Louis says, and Harry finally, finally leans down, and kisses him.

“Progress.” Harry says, and then deepens the kiss. Louis wraps his arms around his neck, and pulls him in closer. It instantly heats up the spark between them, and there is no question, no second guesses. It is the two of them, together.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Harry wakes up on christmas morning just how he has woken up every day for the last two weeks, and how he wants to wake up every day for the rest of his life. With Louis in his arms, sleeping peacefully. The have literally been inseparable since the night at the karaoke club. It was as though every piece of the puzzle fit at just the right time. 

They still argue, all the time. But it’s mostly about where to eat, and what to watch on television. And by argue, it’s usually Louis pouting, Harry laughing, and then Louis getting exactly what he wants. Harry can’t find it in him to ever say no to the man again.

He gives Louis a gentle squeeze. “It’s Christmas, love.” He whispers into Louis’ ear. He immediately smiles, sending a warmth straight into Harry's heart.

“Merry Christmas.” Louis rasps, eyes still closed.

They aren’t in a rush. It’s just the two of them until they make their way to Doncaster for Christmas dinner with Louis’ family. His mum was none too happy that he wasn’t waking up under her roof Christmas morning, but he reminded her that change is what makes life interesting. She didn’t appreciate the sentiment, and called Louis a sassy child, and asked Harry where she went wrong. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Louis physically covered it, and clicked out of the skype app. That is how Harry’s first meeting the family as a boyfriend went, and it couldn’t have been more perfect.

Harry pries his limbs out of Louis’ hold, and finds his balance on the floor. He doesn’t make it out of the bed before Louis snakes his arms around his waist. “Where are you going?”

“Toilet.” Harry smirks behind him, Louis pouts. “Then thought I would put on the kettle.” Louis’ pout turns more to a look of consideration, eyes still closed against the light rising higher on the walls, ad bed. “Then I thought I would go get the gift I managed to hide from you.” This makes Louis smile, and crack an eye open.

“Well, I suppose I can authorise that trip. As long as you’re not long.” Louis loosens his grip, and it allows Harry to turn around, and kiss Louis gently on the lips.

“I couldn’t stay away if I tried.” He says as he slips out of the warmth of the bed. The toilet isn’t needed as greatly as the need to gather his thoughts. He’s really starting to resent the little voice in his head that keeps telling him not to screw this up. He knows that he is’t, he knows that he can’t. Louis is his, and he is Louis’. But that doesn’t mean he has to stop trying either. He reaches into the back of the linen closet, and feels for the small box hiding there. His heart skips a beat when he feels the cool silk of the ribbon tied around the package. He hopes it’s enough,

He returns to the bedroom with two cups of tea, a couple of tree shaped cookies, because why not, and his package. He finds Louis sitting up, bare chest almost covered in the large duvet pooled around him. He’s smiling as he reaches for his drink, and watches as Harry climbs back into his nest of pillows and blankets. They both take a silent sip of their warm drink before Louis caves.

“Ok, I want my gift.” He reaches out, and grabs for the box. Harry pulls away from him just to tease him, but he doesn’t last long, and allows Louis to pull it from his fingers.

Once he has it though, he instantly slows down, and starts to gently pull the ribbon off the box. The paper underneath falls away easily, and Louis is left with what is underneath. He smiles, but he’s confused. Harry expected this, but his stomach still tightens. Louis looks at him, eyes questioning.

“Um, there’s a letter.” Harry points. Louis moves his fingers, and see the paper fall onto the bed in front of him. He picks it up, and opens it.  

 

_ Louis,  _

 

_ These last few weeks have been so absolutely perfect for me. I can’t even describe how happy you make me every day. But I wanted to go back to the beginning. And I know that in the beginning things weren’t as smooth as they are now. I feel like I need to show you where it all started for me.  _

 

_ From the first moment I laid eyes on you I knew that you were someone special. There was a quality to you that pulled me in, and made me want more. Before I ever walked into your life you were changing mine. You were perfect, just like you are right now. Just like you will be every day the world get the privilege to have you.  _

 

_ I thought I fell in love with the man in the magazines, but then I met you, and you taught me that I didn’t even know what love was. Because I have never felt the way I feel about you now. I love you Louis. Every part of you, just the way you are. _

 

_ Yours, _

_ Harry _

  
  
Harry stares down at the simple picture. He got Zayn to sketch out Louis’ face, and figure from the first image Harry had ever seen of him. Louis was probably just walking to the shop when a pap snapped a photo of him. He stares at it instead of Louis himself. Partly enamoured by the image, partly afraid of confronting Louis’ reaction. It amazes him that he can still feel the butterflies from a simple picture even though the real thing, an even better, and more wonderful version could even imagine, is sitting right next to him. In his own bed. That is the kind of effect that Louis has on him. Has always had on him. 

“This.” Louis breaks him from his trance. His voice is broken, and unsure. Harry looks up to see tears in his eyes. “I can’t even tell you how much this means to me.” Louis continues. “To know... to see that you accept me, love me even, for who I am, who I have always been.”

“It’s not much.” Harry ducks his head, feeling self conscious about the gift.

“It’s everything.” Louis immediately counters. He is fierce, face serious. “You loving me just for myself is everything. That is all I need. “ He smiles down at the picture again. “I didn't realise how much until this moment.”

“Yeah?” It’s pretty much all Harry has been thinking about since they came together. Their past haunts him every time Louis asks for his opinion on a t-shirt, or he sees Louis stare at his reflection for a little too long. He remembers the way he tried to make him different. He doesn’t want Louis to ever feel like he wasn’t the most perfect person that ever existed.

“I love you so much.” Louis says to him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry automatically reciprocates, there is no other option, he’s physically drawn to his touch. He lets out a shaky breath that he didn’t know he was holding. Louis does the same, and then laughs out loud. “All I got you was a stupid trip to Brazil!” Harry laughs too because he has the perfect boyfriend. He couldn’t ask for anything more. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Here is a post you can reblog for this fic](https://taggiecb.tumblr.com/post/160512800512/becomeawendybird-why-cant-it-be-like-that-by)


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